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Guy Braddock Mar 2014
Innocent Hyacinth tinted with mint
Ting├Ęd grey hinged on stem singed
With chestnut leaves flowing, to me a fair hint

Of off-centred carousing, black eyes perusing
Wares of all sorts and stocks of all shares
The leading on of a pleasure most gracefully enthusing

Drops dews of all shades, of selfsame structure
And we full of rowdy Sedition;
But Wait! Recognition.
In my hopes and tired efforts, a puncture.

Music blaring loud, aftertaste of rejection
And full on full strand of all smoke addled people
Oh! How great Quasimodo I fell off my steeple
In the midst of the crowd, full dejection.
From an as yet unfinished novel

— The End —