The circle-cycle sings its song
Where now the strength to carry on?
To do the things your love revealed
Before the truth became too real
And stories told unravelled fast
Leaving clouded shades of past.
I take my place upon the stage
No longer searching for your gaze,
There find the strength to carry on;
The circle-cycle song is sung.
With stocking feet
From her lips bestows
She shuts the door
And quietly goes
I stare at the passing bus
Wondering how much
The wheels would hurt
As they roll over me
But it would be extreme
To watch my body bend
Just for the sake
Of getting out of work
When the only reason
I don’t want to go
Is there is so much life
I want to live
(I think I may need a new job folks.)
You push my never wandring eye
Up to the keyhole of your life
I cannot help a wistful cry
Know I no longer fit inside
Here one more time such worlds espy
Allowing reminisent mind
To taste again that sweet delight
Cross vast horizons’ azure skies
The echoes of your radiant smiles
Beheld in flicker-flames so bright
Your sweetest kiss on lips alight
Soft sinking into velvet night
My heart remains in dreams alive
I blow a kiss toward your light
Would fallen leaf
Its twirling stem
Twixt slender fingers
Seen in eyes
Collecting on cobwebs
And dance in flames
Yet even there
In fires glow
Your smiling kiss
The burning leaf
I dreamed of you again, yet this time it was not you.
I walked through the ground floor of Queen Margaret’s hospital, a place I havent been for years, talking on the phone.
The line went dead.
Frustrating though it was, it was not a conversation I was engaged with.
I looked out of the ground floor window at the grass.
Why I was there I do not know.
My phone rings
I look down
Is that you
Yes its me
(I get her name wrong as always)
Or her voice
My heart beating like a drum wrenches me from sleep and I am faced with the realisation that this is not true, that call never came, but you vanished just as completely.