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In the narrowest of lanes
I found the sweet shop.

Behind dusty crumbling glasses
dozed the old keeper
smelling of sugar, milk and sweat
over fossils of Paleolithic sweets
on a time machine from the century
he never was
to a millennium he doesn't bother about
clinging onto clay by pottery
not succumbing to synthetic
counting not on android
but accounting on parchment
with the art of finger's arithmetic
most intricately scribbled with pencil
announcing progress is a trouble
not designed for the simple
and contentment has no more nitty-gritty
than price and quantity.

Over his head
spiders worked and reworked
from the ceiling to the glass
as have been doing
since Carboniferous.
these shallow glimpses we share
as days grow long
the scattered thoughts swirl and bury themselves
in crevices of this old house
to be re-awakened perhaps
when we are many years gone
what can we salvage of this eternal bond
while the Sun buries itself behind the Oak
that we've watched grow from the kitchen window
since the days when our hair was thick and dark
and the smell of fresh cut wood was present
what words can I say to bring tears to your eyes
tears that would come from but a glimpse
that shouted my fervent love
we are captives of our timeless, undying, unwavering hearts
yet all that remains of this diminishing soul
would disperse like the final slivers of light
should I lose you
two moons dance in the light of the Sun
on a distant shore the reflection of one
bounces on waves and laps the clean rock
an oasis unseen, unknown by the flock
they step from the waters
make their way to the beach
from the old world Atlantis
to the new world they reach
removing their headgear
they breath in the night
inhale the silence
rewards of their flight
a thousand plus years from the past
they return
suspended
intended
they are back to
discern
who shall remain to salvage their home
that once was their garden
their Eden
their Rome
like the ancients before
it is time for rebirth
and the few that are spared
shall renew Mother Earth
so effulgent*
the daffodils of brightest shade
so effulgent
bold trumpets e'er magnificent
they grew along the esplanade
showing a splendid tonal grade
*so effulgent
I'm covered in the stain of my own past regressions
I'm buried in the pain of old and new obsessions
I'm crying out in vain, can you hear my confessions
I'm smiling in the rain to hide these tears
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