1.  The triangle below ground

It is buried in the earth; only one side can be seen –

A thin line of steel to show where it might have been,

Where it might have stood, sides converging to a point:

No edges now for the sun’s rays to strike or the rain to anoint.

But stretching deep down into the earth,

Forming a hidden ‘V’, it still has its worth.

The soil will preserve it – and, even more,

A secret treasure-store,

Burnished with gratitude stirring,

Nourishes the triangle, waits for the disinterring.

2.  The triangle above ground

It is slender, and in the wind and sunshine looks frail;

But it is made of steel.  It will not fail.

Its base runs along the ground, mud-spattered but gleaming;

Its other two sides rise to an apex with their dreaming.

It points at the sun.

Nothing can shield it; no apologist; no one.

Yet the spaces between side and side

Are filled invisibly, to ensure it will not topple or slide.

It is proudly held up by an unseen lattice of gold:

Love beyond estimate; thanks untold.