Home at last, the semester now flown past
and I'm painting the moments spent at home
with my gold glitter brush, these seconds last
as glinting jewels in my memory trove.

Glasgow you are gone, if only for a while,
barely even three weeks I won't see you
or walk the streets with wobbly feet and style
that swirls in smoke and shops and strong perfume.

Now I am free from the vivid buffet
of figures in violet down Byres Road
brimming with bustle and bags of dismay;
dissolved to a quiet flickering glow.

Maybe this will in time quite senseless seem
but for now Glasgow grows dim like a dream.