Evening hours of playing peekaboo with the sun And i lay down lavender words loping and longing in my journey to you Crossing infinities of time Chiding my days And chastising my ways For you to return When you retreated like a soft murmur Like gentle untuned ripples Like the melancholic wind that blows and draws in through my window Addressing my pages and leaving without reciting my rhymes Like the fumble fuming puff hailing then slowly fading and failing Foamy and fluffy with the froathy cream yet not savouring the flavour Calling yet not caressing Rhyming yet not flowing Leaving me like a vagabond With a foramen self Grappling ,gripping and then giving the grave, the soul you gave