Rolling a Pall Mall in the courtyard,
of Ye Olde Swiss Cottage Tavern,
in the last of November's sun:

      Lovely sunlight,
      You are,
      Filling me warmly with joy.

Thinking of our desires,
from summer and autumn months,
up to this bright November morning,
we have happily danced,
e'en in the shadows.

Above me two brick turrets,
as I dreamily smoke,
nonchalantly state: 'Underground'.
High-raised logos winking at our play,
struck through with horizontal blue,
in a circle of enamel white.
'Old Fool,' the towers hiss,
directed at my mortal sensibilities,
'winter has come!'

But nothing buries us
as our sun still comfortingly kindles
a friendly star
which when all is dark,
glows inside,
guiding the shipwreck of my sunken years
- the debts and all those unpaid thrills!

Dreaming and Loving,
as children out,
lost in an abundant *****,
each holding off for as long as we dare,
lovers unmasked,
naked before suffocating paternity,
and cold winter's bite!
where to we hardly know,
to avoid its cruel embrace.

Sometimes in a disco
I find myself lost in the music
Immersed in the lyrics
Of the sounds
Like the wasps *******
from the nectar
Unaware of the pollen
Flower dances
In the love of creation
And nuance

I used to look
now I see

I used to crush
now I love

I used to hug
now I embrace

I used to rage
now I engage

I used to jump to conclude
now I skate to it
taking my
time

I used to fall in
now I rise to
taking you
with me

I used to blush
and
I still
do