A sonnet for an old friend
Whether on Ynys Môn or in the Bollin valley
I am at home with my friend of sixty years..
There have been gaps, it's true, when you
And I fell out of orbit, But we always knew
We would reconnect. Now, as two old duffers,
Rapidly running out of puff, we take delight
In the sights and sounds we share or even
A companionable, silent staring into air.
We are not at all the same in taste or beliefs
But it is such a relief for me to share a few
Quiet hours with my honoured friend, a man
On whom I can depend for truth and sincerity.
Who was willing to share his enthusiasms
His kindness in an unfettered companionship.