For fity miles
she rode on a  rare Steed
to show her endeavour,
never saying whether should would dither -
a hearth must be prepared with care
a heart's evermore if it is sincere,
dreaming of the future under a
Trestle viaduct,
she recalled tact,
your typical daughter
with thin waist
and flaxen hair
could be changed by the World,
instead she had the courage of choice,
to embroider a kindred yarn
and perform revival folk
to kinder Columbine kingdoms,
perchance early to rise?

The shrill wind carries  through decaying buildings
pits loneliness, despite "London Pride" blooming
like it did in the last Conflict.
Philistines journey home on Circular pathways,
we are all  in a dearth of orbital now,
is there enough opportunity
to resurrect the heart, that neon centre
before the People barriers whittle .

Turtlenecks are insufficient for walks on  dunes
as are gifted sandals without enough Dubbin
but I am gazing at your familial wrist, longing on a soothe song,
trying not to imagine a life without you
possessing your smile
with uncharted goals.

I watch her and know my friend's Cat has a soul
why greet me and chase away the strays ?
Go figure out the unity, it last
and you will realise
there's instinctual maturity,
the pride of her groom
the health regime of cat grass
prawns auto reckoning !
the decision that Rock N Roll
is a tacky tail, is gracious,
her class suitably ignores
associated man made discordance

Colours buy silence.
I publicly deny Prussian Blue was my first,
the colour of a Paratrooper
but my Lover bequested the time.
I subterfuge the lower end scale of green,
like hopeless moss
coilling my Adversaries dreams
I am sunk with a kiss -
deeper than quagmire
she will obtuse my decree,
home is the tireless winds
further than the cut of her high cheekbones

String vests with spittle trailing
Budvar to invariably show independence,
they snare the spectacles of the respectable evenings sheen,
later calling the night *****, and kicking  hoardings
as if they had wanted to disinter the dammed.
The former love of parakeets,
by once fine people,
also released Yellow to this New World
matching the jaundiced jab
of a hooligan denying  his head

I used to count the Acers
honed red striped wood,
offering hope in depths of February,
aeons of breakfast wishes
played changes that cannot be backed down
any more than my russet creations,
I long for companionship
as earthy as bottled Bordeaux ,
only if my crocus mia pathway
enfuses with the sound
of the incurious  contendedly arriving