Warm doorways
I've just got home from a bloody good play
at Repertory. A secretary developes passion
Her fingers had touched only her Typewriter
I should have jumped on the Auckland train
with Nick Gone to Nepal Mum would have
a heart attack I'd lose my job My house
burn down Or — dogs shit outside. Nobody
clean up. Everybody Disapprove Nearly a
year later. Although it no longer happens
I like being told I am loved.
I've glimpsed passion
The stuff Christians are taught to discount
Enough to write on my painting —
There were no stars I didn't think I'd do
Another happy painting life here I'd done
so many Now there were no more Cloud
above me Sulphurous
It's a lovely night The sky is black It's
clearlt filled with stars Rapt about the
beauty Towelling contentedly I admire life
doorways on the edge of eternity
Warm into which I choose to go.
1984 acrylic on hardboard 1200 x 900 mm