I wish I could have held,
Catherine Graydon's hand again,
Stared at Melanie McCloud,
Whilst others read aloud,
One more time,
To sit topless,
Barefoot,
In the Derwent,
With Ruth Gray,
With her went,
My childhood dreams,
Of romance,
She grew up,
Became sensible,
And so should my dreams,
And so,
Should I,
But somewhere deep down,
Childhood refuses to die out,
It holds on to the coat-sleeves of time,
Stamps it's feet,
Incomplete,
The changing of the Guard is hard,
From boy to man,
from was to am,
And the essence of the dream,
Remains a theme,
That refuses to stay out of my story,
Escape,
Into imagined landscapes,
Of love
M Joseph Burt (July 2007)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Anvil
Anvil An unconventional use And gravity And force travelling And least resistance And other natural flaws And super-natural laws And an an...
-
I find the cool channels between buildings where the wind finds flow, This breeze block, asphalt, concrete complex, Where the radiance of ...
-
Let Me In I don't stand at the door and knock, It's not that my calls on the phone go unanswered, It's not that you forget to ...
-
I don't wanna be your drone And I don't wanna work from home I don't wanna end up all alone So I'm on strike, I won'...
No comments:
Post a Comment