Im hearing a siphon of a song
My love has gone away
The spindlewood has run dry
The seasons is awry
Tis the time of merriment
said the jester to the knave

under the halogen light
a spy for another's love is reticient
he knows not what her fate will be
like so many before
His salted tears stains his cheeks,
his nemesis espied his fear
in the house of thwarted love
all is not fair
perfectly voiceless
divorce is the imminent option now

I mute out all sound
Least I treespass on reasons rhyme

I enjoin in the signets call
Least I surround myself with subterfuge

Like a deckled cheeseboard
I hunger for a Silver  lining

Palimpsest on a bright day
I scribe letters already cast

The horse has bolted
Day is night
Memories flight to County Carlow
whilst he lives in London SE27
A hard rain is about to fall
when he calls me John
and forgets to feed his cats

Silence falls softly in these hours
Oft I wish I were a vampire
Between the void and hereafter

Night unfolds into the ether
And the siren sings her woeful song

What use is this solitude it endures
and whispers tales to surmount

Darkness this is the moment
Of plaintiff protestations  unfolding

I could be the lash
under your eyelid
taste your summer wine
sip from your song
Such an azure day
listen to your dahlias grow
meet you in the street
mid-cycle
in the passing of goodbye

I wish I had a vista of the past
and could still hear the squawking hens
in their Kibbutz hatches
under some 1982 azure sky

I wish I were a hippie
and could permanently hear acetate music from 1967
dressed in kaftan
smoking Moroccan ***
forever  young

If I were to be a poet
id  gap in the missing years
and candy floss the  past
between youngster hood and my  near 60 years