For D

"For D.

May I compose for you,

you unlikely Muse?

With ginger beard

and dud disc

and a taste for Harold Robbins?

You are none of the things

on my short list

of Requirements in a Man;

you laugh too loud,

and smoke too much,

and need too many fillings.

But you peg me to reality

At midnight, when it hurts

So, may I write for you?"