andymorley's pomes | MY LOST KEYS

Every girl has a secret entrance, This we all know but don't discuss... The thought of that secret entrances men, The undiscussed entrancing, Grows power through stolen glancing, Desire and courage gather then, To make the stranger into 'us'... Look at girls whose legs are lovely, Hips are shapely, waists are slim, Faces smooth, composed, completely, Might not need you, might want him... Every word has secret meaning, Not the one you had in mind, Trying, teasing, tasting, feeling, Never knowing what you'll find... We all want keys to every entrance, Some of us have keys, but often only one. More keys would sure entrance some more, But more would jangle in the door Sounds that others won't ignore, That is the great and fatal flaw... The secrets would be out, So many keys and many schemes, The harbouring of broken dreams, A master-key exists it seems... Though veiled in secret and in doubt. Sometimes I think of keys that I once had. Sometimes, I had more than one. They did not jangle then. But they would jangle now. If anyone finds my lost keys, Look after them most carefully please. And though I'd like to have them back, Something there that I would lack... The jangling would displease me, They must release me, loose me from The one time bonds I once put on, To aim to please and own such keys, Would just distress, destroy my ease... So put them carefully in your pocket... Pick them up from where they lie, Understand the trust they earn you, While I turn to say goodbye... Andy Morley 9th December 2006/ 31st March 2007

Most of my pomes, I write very quickly - in the space of 5 or 10 minutes. This started off like that and was an idea that I kicked off in December '06.

Then, in March '07 I was sitting in a cafe chatting and glanced up to see the bottom half of a girl, clad in tight grey jeans and leather boots. I thought they were rather attractive legs. Then, she came full into my line of sight and I recognised her face as someone who'd caught my attention the year before. It was an interesting face, a little sulky, like a female version of the young Bob Dylan from the cover of The Freewheeling Bob Dylan. In fact, she also looked a bit like the girl on the cover of that LP who's holding on to Dylan (Suze Rotolo), only more interesting.

It struck me as weird how an attractive body can match an attractive face. This rule does not always apply but when it does, it has a significance... The girl in the cafe had the same name as a famous '60s actress and girlfriend of Mick Jagger. Though she was attractive, I was not tempted. That hint of sulkiness, though cute from a distance could have been a pain close to...

And then again, I am never really tempted. But anyway, I'm grateful for that thought she gave me, as it inspired me to re-work this pome.

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