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May 2015
I wonder when these shoes will wear?
If they'll ever spare another tear,
All scruffed and gruffed,
All wrinkled and crow'd,
A pair for a no show.

I wonder when this jacket will cease
to respire any fibre?
When the hem will begin to stem
an elongated thread,
The buttons express of remorse,
Why must they fall short?

I wonder when these trousers
will fail to hold my waist?
No matter to extensions or nostalgic reconsiderations,
No belt will spare thee,
or brace to contain me.

I wonder when these fingers
will cease to play?
All the joints never to cease with pain,
Wave away the cartilage and ivory keys,
Never to be pleased with the hollow sound.

I wonder when these ears
will turn hollow?
Through and out, not even a shout
Just regress into silent
remoteness.

I wonder when this love will fade?
Like the shoes and the clothes,
my fingers and musical repose,
But I'm not afraid,
For I know these will fade.

All is made to evaporate
apart from
the love that hides from sight
but burns in glorious light

Through the portals of our mind
that same light I see
time after time,
lit within your eyes.
Paris Raine
Written by
Paris Raine  London, England
(London, England)   
627
   Weeping willow
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