2010-12-31 06:02:22 UTC
A Scene from Married Life by Dannie Abse
That unseasonable July in Ogmore
nothing was happening until it happened,
the commuters trapped in their stuffy office block,
the sea slow, the Monday beach sullen, empty,
and I, thinking of the squabble with my wife:
fast barbed words that made the other squirm
and fed flushed indignation, verbal revenge -
a dead bird eaten by the early worm.
I piled up my usual clothes and daps tidily
on a convenient boulder brooding nearby
and, troubled, saw the far dunk confusion of
the sea and sky in resentful wedlock
A mile out the monstrous Tusker Rock crammed
with ghosts and psychopomps raised black fangs.
So many boats it had torn asunder. Seagulls
drifted above it like lost thoughts of the damned.
Soon, daring the fussy sea, I entered
a B movie to enact my great climatic scene.
(After I sank - weep for me - the credits would come up.
then the screen, appropriately, would go blank.)
I swivelled for a last winsome longshot, saw
on the high cliff my wife dressed in blue and all
the best of the world true and desirable
With surrendering waves I crawled to the shore.
Our own cold wars during the real Cold War
were few and brief. Sulky, I;d linger at my desk
but children's cries were mightier than the pen.
And sweet the armistice, each kiss, and then...