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