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Public
Assoc for Scottish Literature

VALENTINE WEATHER
Edwin Morgan

Kiss me with rain on your eyelashes,
come on, let us sway together,
under the trees, and to hell with thunder.

—a short 🧵 of Edwin Morgan love poems for 💘 & 🏳️‍🌈
1/4

Public
Assoc for Scottish Literature

No smoke without you, my fire.
After you left,
your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray
and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey
I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal
of so much love…

—Edwin Morgan, “One Cigarette”
2/4
💘 🏳️‍🌈

Poem text: "One Cigarette" by Edwin Morgan No smoke without you, my fire. After you left, your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray and sent up a long thread of such quiet grey I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal of so much love. One cigarette in the non-smoker's tray. As the last spire trembles up, a sudden draught blows it winding into my face. Is it smell, is it taste? You are here again, and I am drunk on your tobacco lips. Out with the light. Let the smoke lie back in the dark. Till I hear the very ash sigh down among the flowers of brass I'll breathe, and long past midnight, your last kiss.
Public
Assoc for Scottish Literature

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine…

—Edwin Morgan, “Strawberries”
3/4
💘 🏳️‍🌈

Poem text: "Strawberries", by Edwin Morgan There were never strawberries like the ones we had that sultry afternoon sitting on the step of the open french window facing each other your knees held in mine the blue plates in our laps the strawberries glistening in the hot sunlight we dipped them in sugar looking at each other not hurrying the feast for one to come the empty plates laid on the stone together with the two forks crossed and I bent towards you sweet in that air in my arms abandoned like a child from your eager mouth the taste of strawberries in my memory lean back again let me love you let the sun beat on our forgetfulness one hour of all the heat intense and summer lightning on the Kilpatrick hills let the storm wash the plates
Assoc for Scottish Literature

When you go,
if you go,
and I should want to die,
there’s nothing I’d be saved by
more than the time
you fell asleep in my arms…

—Edwin Morgan, “When You Go”
4/4
💘 🏳️‍🌈

Poem test: "When You Go", by Edwin Morgan When you go, if you go, and I should want to die, there’s nothing I'd be saved by more than the time you fell asleep in my arms in a trust so gentle I let the darkening room drink up the evening, till rest, or the new rain lightly roused you awake. I asked if you heard the rain in your dream and half dreaming still you only said, I love you.
Feb 14, 2023, 01:46 PM·Public·Web
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