Atlas

On this website, you’ll find very romantic poems. Odes to love. But sometimes, poets describe love in a human way and not a divine one. Not movie love, but real life love. Little things, almost boring things, make up our love connection in real life. And even though they might seem plain to others, they mean the world to us. Something which U.A. Fanthorpe clearly understood.

There is a kind of love called maintenance
Which stores the WD40 and knows when to use it;

Which checks the insurance, and doesn’t forget
The milkman; which remembers to plant bulbs;

Which answers letters; which knows the way
The money goes; which deals with dentists

And Road Fund Tax and meeting trains,
And postcards to the lonely; which upholds

The permanently rickety elaborate
Structures of living, which is Atlas.

And maintenance is the sensible side of love,
Which knows what time and weather are doing
To my brickwork; insulates my faulty wiring;
Laughs at my dryrotten jokes; remembers
My need for gloss and grouting; which keeps
My suspect edifice upright in air,
As Atlas did the sky.

U.A. Fanthorpe


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