As leaves fall

 It is a queer thing to miss

That which did never exist

To seek out that face, that form

In a crowd, when all alone

It is as the taste of ash in my mouth

The reminder

That I'm looking for something 

which cannot be found

It is strange to remember

Memories once happy

Now seen without colour

Devoid of fervour or ardour

And wonder

Where did it all disappear

What was it that made me feel so

When did the doubt vanish

Why did I not pay heed

And if I had

Would I feel perhaps a little less silly

It is as being awakened from a dream

Rudely, and suddenly

And find the memories quickly vanishing

And leaving me wondering

What was it that made me so happy

I do not want to turn back

The clock, or indeed seek a different end

I just want to lose the habit

Of seeking you

Let me play you a blue note

We sit here and watch the clock tick
How dreary this night
How weary your sighs

Come out, let us be gone!
Can you hear the gay wind?
I’m no dandy, but I can dress
I’m no dancer but I can tap
This night is ours to whirl away

All that is foul and wearisome
The gentle night has covered
With a knowing wink
So forget your worries!
And here, have a taste
This fine wine, it has a bite
Tart and mellow, hued sallow

What’s that? A fine piece indeed
Will you give me the honour of this dance?
No I can’t dance either
So let us play the fool together
And sashay to the rhythm
Of those mad paradiddles!
Round and round we go
Faster and faster we flow
And lo, the music has changed

So let us dance a little slow
Your breath is making me giddy
And I am drunk with you,
So no Ganymede, thank you
Tonight I possess a rarer vintage
Than you can provide
For I have her by my side
Forgive me my ramblings
Indeed I have imbibed
Perhaps a wee dram too many
Maybe a little air would do me good

Ooh look
How bright shines the moon tonight!
What are you so embarrassed about?
Oh those two? Pay them no heed
The night is theirs as well after all
How the music fritters on the breeze
It drives me to my knees
Is it so wrong to want you
You who tug on my heartstrings so

Yes it is rather late
But with you the night yet feels young
Leave me not alone here
In the bright company of this shindy
I’d rather be lonely with you
We can take a boat out on to the river
I can paddle, you can steer

Or let us go to the highest tower
Well above the gleaming lights
Of this fey city
Why the hurry?
I’ll tell you

It looks best as the moon rests just above
The bridge on the river
And yes, I can see it later

But I’d rather remember it with you

Dreamlust

Pensive strains of a fragile melody

The forgotten dream, swiftly recalled

And then lost again, as the notes fade

The reverberations dampened

By the grey fog of mortal memory

The searing colours of sunset

Burning on a crumbling wall

And peaceful sounds of contentment

Flutter on the sea breeze

And hold the door ajar

The most exquisite of melancholies

Beyond the visceral pleasures

Of our unholy plane

There is much to be feared in its siren song

Not all paths lead both ways

Fear of this transcendent beauty

Is fear of the unknown

And fear of loneliness

And fear of the self

Fear of its uncharted depths

For what will you find

When wandering the twisted realm

Of this desperate malaise

As you walk alone

The trail once trod no more

An Unforgivable Incarceration

I walk the silver line between dreams and daylight

I look to the west, the overcast landscape

The brooding bulkheads of monstrous nightmares

A throbbing keening behind my eyes

A restless foreboding within my breast

An ancient ache beats down upon me

The path home is lost

And an anger stoked, a forge fired

The bewildered fury of the hapless condemned

The prisoners of circumstance, and cold white dice

And undesired constitution, lacking a fortitude

The world demanded, they had none to give

The masquerade of balance as justice

The greatest mischief of our times and times past

And of times hence, for what does change

But the costumes, the actors, never the parts

The malevolent maker, He hides now

This Creation of His has failed us,

A monument to His hubris, His heinous act

So now I walk the line alone

There is none to charge, none to blame

Just the dreary days to eke away

Reflections in the Moonlight

Eleven to twelve, the wind is out

Can you hear its frosty breath?

Leaves a’rustle, over the roots

Of sylvan sentinels with verdant tresses

As drained of colour as the deathly pallor

Of the face of the night, which I have seen

Wicked doings and silent trysts,

But for the greater part, indifference;

For all the vigour of youthful life,

Day by day, it nears its end

And what remains but the night,

Its silvery light

Uncaring beauty, it ends each day

But the next dawn? I hear you say

Oh! Hope the foolish jealously guard –

You see a new day, each day –

All I see is death awaiting her turn

In the wings, to dance her dance

And in her whirls I see the truth.

For each beginning is but an end,

Waiting patiently for its turn