For
Peter Granger
23/11/1953 - 24/10/1986

May you live in everlasting Peace
and Light and Joy and Love!

 

1
Help me, beloved friend, to make a start,
to write a pure poem worthy of you,
dear kindest man, the best I ever knew,
to feel your fire in my mourning heart,
to hear your vibrant voice that still inspires,
to be your perfect witness, gentle Pete,
to become your eyes, recreate your heat
and form again your cruelly crushed desires.
Help me, dear sweet lost prince, to heal your scars
and know again the beauty of your kiss
when first I tasted undeserved bliss
that wondrous night of spicy winter stars.
	If this is delusion, dear lost brother,
	help me to nurse it dear sweet dead lover.

2
Before we met I thought and would profess
that perfect lovers were but idle dreams,
made melancholy mists of loneliness,
sad fruits of fancies borne of fairy schemes.
Before we met I was but half a man,
till dazzling destiny, that shattering day,
treasured years ago, many moons away,
slipped to the foreground of its subtle plan
the truest, gentlest, most delightful friend;
then my hidden half first avowed the mirth
of joys untasted since my far-off birth
and my love quest reached its appointed end.
	Dear sweetest man, dear friend, dear gentle Pete,
	by grace of your love I became complete.

3
In void days before my fate had found you
I thought I loved an embittered other
who, indifferent that love to love is due,
used power jealously like a cruel brother.
Seeking to punish for my affection
he brought to my home a guiltless rival
who, blind to his part in this deception,
brought too a youth who, at their arrival,
reached trusting hands to me as a new friend.
My heart caught a glimpse of fate's stunning plan
as it soared at sight of this calm young man -
for smiling before me stood journey's end.
	Thus ended my loneliness and self-hate,
	as my yielding soul matched with its perfect mate.

4
The years of pain with that former false friend
cut my heart cruelly with malicious deeds,
ploughing deep trenches for your magic seeds
of kindness and love, a powerful blend
which, sewn and ripened, brought crops of such joy,
now I give thanks for his routine cruelty
and cold denial: for they brought you to me,
my delight in the night, my golden boy!
The two years I knew him my way seemed blocked,
my destiny lost in mists of despair,
but the gateway his treachery unlocked
disclosed a perfect path and you were there.
	Thus fate found a way of misfortune blending
	with an unpredictable happy ending.

5
In this magic room where fate was first kind
(but where after twice seven years slipped by
it would cruelly demand our last goodbye),
in this empty room now I search my mind
for lines strong enough to commemorate
your sturdy young body and agile grace,
your smiling eyes, golden hair, sunfilled face,
the breathless glory of the temple gate
where your spirit dwelt in such modesty.
Some, sweet lover, show beauty but briefly
but as time wrote lines on your loveliness
your beauty and my love grew more not less:
	in youth, lovelier than a meadow in May,
	in prime, lovelier than a summer day.

6
I spoke of my love to your friends and mine
who warned conquest plans would win no cover.
Your tastes, they told me, did not so incline:
you'd have me as friend, but not as lover.
One, claiming knowledge of your private dreams
longer and better than any other,
said he too had wished to be your lover
but found your dreams had conventional themes.
Sadly I resolved it must be my end
to keep my passion secret and to send
no sign or signal of it, but to pretend
to wish to be simply devoted friend.
	So two years and more glided swiftly by
	before I found it to be an unjust lie.

7
At eighteen you chose to start life's journey
travelling through unknown far eastern lands
and though for two years this kept you from me,
it kept my love secret in time's safe sands.
I remembered at a similar age
I'd sought my path in this turbulent world
and longed to guard you on that stony stage
with its tapestry myths to be unfurled,
but for the first few years of our friendship
my love was a secret I dared not strip
and by fortune you were not there to see
the power your rare letters had over me.
	Thus I allowed no hope a day would come
	when I'd lie in your arms, my secret undone.

8
Then one unforgettable sky blue day
when nearly thirty moons had passed away
I opened my door to the dazzling sight
of you - and my world exploded with light.
I feasted my eyes on your smiling face,
your sunblonde hair, your sweet bodily grace,
the substance of my dreams for two long years,
and saw you acknowledge my tell-tale tears.
The only true friend's warm welcome, you said,
of the many friends you'd returned to see,
was from astonished, smiling, crying me:
others might pretend but their eyes were lead.
	Did you detect then the love in my eyes
	and the depth of my feelings realise?

9
You told of adventures in foreign lands,
of driving road-trains across desert sands,
of a woman who caused you to tarry,
of how she loved you and wished to marry,
of how she touched a place deep in your heart;
but a time came when you had to depart
for your nomad blood ordered you to spurn
her love, move on, and never more return.
Then my heart went out to that distant soul
who thought she'd discovered her guiding star
but who found herself alone, sad and far
from the good man she hoped would keep her whole.
	And her fate confirmed my resolution
	to keep undeclared my secret passion.

10
Your astonishing travels in far lands
had disclosed to you what you wished to do:
to engineer sound with your skilled young hands
for those favourite rare musicians who
you felt deserved better and, by godsends,
I could help - for some of them were my friends.
Together we travelled to hear them play
and they took you on and asked you to stay.
The joy it gave me to help you started
was darkened knowing we'd thus be parted
and travelling abroad with your chosen band
you might meet others who could claim your hand.
	But my strongest feeling was pure delight
	to have helped with a plan long in your sight.

11
So life's steep climb became a gentle slope,
though still I did not dare permit the hope
that such trusting devoted friends as we
could become lovers - no that could not be!
But you kept your knapsack behind my door
and often slept easily on my floor
until at last there came a magic night
when - oh so gently! - you asked if you might
come into my bed and lie next to me
and I who'd never dared hope for such bliss
tasted the nectar of your perfect kiss,
more wonderful than any dream could be.
	Yet still I dared not speak my love aloud.
	Still I was too frightened, perhaps too proud.

12
One day, buying tall glasses in a store,
you passed me a glass you saw I admired
with a look of such loving warmth and more
that my heart surged with passion and was fired
with tenderness, love and a great desire,
there and then in that busy public place,
to sweep you in my arms, my soul on fire,
and shower you with kisses for your sweet grace.
Though still your restless spirit, fiercely free,
sent you on endless journeys far from me
my whole life was enriched for any time
I could view you thus in my inner clime.
	My friend, my soul's desire, my body's flame,
	around my life's dream your love is the frame.

13
A letter from your father far away
delivered to your home one winter's day
brought a wonderful photograph of you:
a perfect likeness, beautiful and true.
On it he'd written the words: "Hi, Tiger!"
expressing perfectly feelings I shared.
I swayed for a moment, my eyes wider
than was proper, my emotions raw, bared.
Then I saw you throw down the stunning thing
and run from the room for you had to fight
with the flood of feelings such moments bring,
modesty forbidding public delight.
	I prayed then, in surging joy and sadness,
	that my love too might bring you such gladness.

14
An old friend, visiting us in my home,
directed our talk to a deep debate
on the nature of friendship and the fate
of unexpressed feelings, calling them foam
on seas of unbeing and - oh surprise! -
I found myself looking into your eyes
declaring I loved you and always had
and, having confessed, felt instantly glad.
At last I'd dared to tell you of my love,
risking loss of your precious treasure trove,
and - oh pure joy! - the love with which I burned
you gently acknowledged and humbly returned!
	Thus your love cured the hunger in my soul,
	healed life's unkindest wounds and made me whole.

15
In your mother's cottage that winter's night
you showed me your room, a calm, quiet space
that had known your innocent childhood's face
and, overcome by privileged delight,
surrounded by the sights and tastes of you,
by the essential treasures you still kept,
by the magical bed where you still slept,
I almost swooned with love for you, for you!
Preparing my bed in another room,
expecting no more such delights to come,
I was stunned when you said you hoped I might
come into your sanctuary for the night.
	You opened your arms and welcomed me in,
	my adorable smiling cherubin!

16
Thus thanks to that dear friend, now alas gone,
I dared to speak my love for you aloud
and to my wonder you took my love on
smilingly acknowledged it and were proud.
You showed me my dear heartfelt love for you
was prime and precious to you and worthwhile
and never used its power to say or do
a particle an angel could revile.
There came even a day when, proud and free,
you said those famous three word back to me.
So the last barrier between us crumbled,
my soul lay at rest, my proud self humbled.
	What more can be asked from life than this?
	To love and be loved is perfect bliss.

17
One day as we drove to a western shore
you shared with me your vision of a life
of fruitful sorrows and meaningful strife
and our conversation for us was more
than mere words - for we felt our two minds merge
till we all but drowned in our soul's still pool.
Later, on a secluded shore, calm, cool,
naked, you emerged from the shining surge
and offered your perfect body and I,
there on a beach under a perfect sky,
worshipped humbly at your glorious shrine
and, stunned with sweet gratitude, sipped your wine.
	To drink love's nectar from your sacred spring,
	after such privilege, what more can life bring?

18
Truth demands I beg your forgiveness now,
dear smiling lover, dear gentle Pete,
for now I've lost you I see clearly how
I made many demands yet failed to meet -
oh shameful admission! - your simple need
for a friend strong in matters of the heart.
I was jealous and feared where it might lead
and you, understanding, withdrew that part
of our intimacy and no more turned
for such aid to me: unwisely I'd laid
the first stone in a wall that soon betrayed
our special friendship and its virtue spurned.
	I could not know this foolish stone would grow
	to high ramparts with me cast out below.

19
Sensing my fears you sent me a letter
assuring me we would be friends for life
till our twilight years no matter what strife;
of trusted comrades you loved none better,
you wrote, and one day at a distant time,
you knew by a moment of clear insight,
one would tend the other's funeral rite
and witness the other's last tolling chime.
I loved your sweet letter, I thought it fine.
Since I was older by so many years
I found no cause in it for foolish fears,
trusting it would be you attending mine.
	I could not know then what fate had in store,
	that perfidious sphinxes levy more.

20
Though I already knew the doleful fact
that a day would come when you'd wish to find
a conventional love of your own kind
I hoped to accept this freedom to act.
Visionary lovers set loved ones free.
Clearly this is so, though hard to practise
and, knowing it, I fought my jealousy
and won, but for that one moment remiss.
Who can be said to love who rings around
with fearful rules where do's and don'ts abound?
Try to trap or ensnare and love is lost -
in struggles to escape, it is the cost.
	The joy of a butterfly on the hand
	is its choice of that magic place to land.

21
But when the time came and you turned to me
for advice concerning a special friend
who though she knew you cared for her would lend
no warmth to you but made a cold decree
forbidding contact because of deep qualms,
then I forgot these truths and, scared, forbade
all talk with such power to make me feel bad.
Oh to be her and submit in your arms!
Instead my fear lost me that perfect chance
to support and comfort you and enhance
the green plant of love that between us grew.
So you, gentle soul, silently withdrew.
	Would I'd known then what now I surely know:
	that pure love alone can cure all pain and woe.

22
If I could but have been wiser and strong,
grasped that your turning to me for advice
was a privilege that did me no wrong,
I need not have felt my soul turn to ice
when I heard from friends you were keeping house
with a woman who loved you - perhaps as I.
I who'd forbidden you even to try
to talk of such things but had made you douse
your simple honesty, your wish to share,
now knew the seering pain of jealous fears
and desperate long nights of lonely tears
for who could I turn to for loving care?
	Yet I had a love no woman could know
	for my love was free to come - and to go!

23
I wanted to spend my whole life with you
but knew better than to declare it true
for then you might fear to spend nights with me -
blissful times I could forget we were three.
Free on the road with your best working band,
this I braved for years, I could understand.
Once I heard you were living with her
my jealous love became a bitter spur.
When soon enough the two of you parted,
without bitterness, for both big-hearted,
choosing again separate ways to seek,
I knew at last our friendship was unique.
	Women there'd be, but I the only man.
	Subtle fate, to contrive such a fell plan!

24
That same fell fate then brought a fine woman
who saw your virtues as clearly as I
and I knew with a soporific sigh,
she was made to capture you as her man.
Having power, she offered what I could not,
claiming her rights and to me would allot
not a jot of your love - she would not share
but demanded exclusive loving care.
Despite the sweet purity of your love,
cruel jealous phantasms beneath, above,
confronted me then with certain defeat,
nightly hateful in their inspired deceipt.
	Alas, with my vile jealousy painted,
	our pure loving friendship too was tainted.

25
Soon you were happily living with her,
a couple that suffered no social slur,
and I was cast out, forbidden your bed
by her express will - my joy undone, fled.
When she married you and bore you a son
(had my love been pure I'd have wished you one!)
my days became empty, in the wrong place,
always far now from your radiant face.
Each time we met then, with despairing pain,
I saw joy once mine had become her gain.
But when blind tragedy stabs with its darts
our sorrow enlarges our foolish hearts
	and now I would give my life as the cost
	of restoring to her the joy she's lost.

26
Whenever we met after lonely months
I was dazzled by you as the first time
but the petals of our love's amaranths
were now forbidden unfolding sublime.
When smilingly you brought your little son
I was proud to see your fatherly skill,
but I saw too your need for me outrun
and the pain of my loss subdued goodwill.
Since love was no more a cause to rejoice
but had become for me a bitter bane,
to protect myself from further such pain,
I resolved to end it - oh cruel, cruel choice!
	Forced by fate to appear to be guilty
	of indifference and infidelity!

27
I asked you to lunch with me in my home,
where fourteen years earlier fate brought bliss,
prepared a sacred meal and prayed that this,
our last encounter, would create a loam
where future memories could safely grow.
I feasted my eyes on your adored face,
on your faultless features and princely glow,
that my path forever your blaze could trace.
I hoped thus to make this last time we'd meet
so perfect, so loving, such a pure treat,
that its memory in our souls would set
a fabulous jewel we'd never forget.
	Then I told you of my lonely vision
	and the grief of my final decision.

28
You thanked me on hearing what I'd resolved
for my sacrifice and loving kindness;
it liberated you, your debt absolved,
you said, and suddenly I saw my blindness!
Selfishly I'd failed to think of your pain
knowing you hurt one whose love was your gain.
Incomparable after so many years
your love could still stun - and subdue my fears.
Releasing you, you said, from unsought power
would renew our friendship, would help it flower.
We hugged goodbye and you, my dearest friend,
said it was a beginning, not an end.
	Thus my heart passed the trial fate set me
	to renounce selfish claims and set you free.

29
Seven days later, your son in your arms,
a runaway car, a bolt of steel fear,
was flung by fate at you and with no qualms
you thought first of your child and threw him clear.
He fell onto soft grass, safe, sound, unbruised
as the foul thing struck you a fatal blow,
the home of your sacred spirit abused,
your strong body struck down, forever low.
In that last moment, by saving your son,
you defeated death and life's last fight won,
thus showing the truth my heart had perceived
that you were the best this world has conceived.
	Come sweet death, for I no longer fear you -
	where my angel has gone I wish to go too.

30
In despair, at the end of my tether,
in wretched disbelief, I paced the streets
visiting places we'd been together
till the pain of remember forced retreats.
Returning home (where you said you loved me)
I was stabbed by memories of the joy
of contemplating your naked beauty
as you slept in my bed, my own lost boy.
I prayed a cruel kind car would kill me too
till I conceived one worthwhile thing to do:
to write a poem where your perfect light
might shine in eternity's darkest night.
	Perhaps fate was kind for, killed in your prime,
	you're young forever - till the end of time.

31
This imperfect poem, my perfect friend,
hewn from my love and broken-hearted tears,
has a verse for each of your gentle years
with a line for each year you were my friend:
precious fragments of your life, shared with me,
woven into a loving tapestry.
Before I knew you I was ever lost;
I wandered free, but the earth had no core.
Now the whole world with your love is embossed
and I can be with you forever more.
Now my soul, washed clean by tears of pure love,
perceives you everywhere, beneath, above.
	Of god's most beautiful thoughts you are one
	and what god has once thought can't be undone.

32
For fourteen precious years you kept me whole.
The secret treasures and magic delights
of your pure sweet body and shining soul
enriched all my days and fulfilled my nights.
Close to me or far, at ease or in strife,
you were the very fulcrum of my life,
till that bloody act, that October day,
mindlessly swept your precious life away.
Now it dawns at last how privileged I've been
to have shared pure love with such a gentle man.
Your love and your loss, both, complete the scene,
reconciling my death as part of fate's plan.
	If the best man that ever lived must die
	then what can it matter if so must I?

33
So now I'm at the end of my story,
now for me the world's best wondrous glory
has gone, leaving this sackcloth song to sing.
You're gone; yet time still chimes its petty ring;
streets still throng with beings who talk and do,
unaware the best man that lived has gone;
noble or fair, they are no match for you
but as if you'd not lived they carry on.
Thus thoughts of your tragic death still haunt me
every moment, every hour, every day.
But these dark thoughts cannot daunt me
for thoughts of our love chase sadness away.
	And when all who breathe now are dead and gone
	in these your lines your magic will live on.

 

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