Pictures painted
Flames of fire
Smoke, hanging in the air
Never to be easy at the call
Fear frightens everyone
Fear frightens all
Second order differential
Or integral equation
Stepped up
Or steeped in history
That place, where you drift now
On the cusp of sleep
On the brink of engagement
With yesterday and tomorrow
Both under the twisted blue sky
Already engaged
Turn the lights down low
The vinyl turntable
Turns once more
Candles, effervescent and tranquil
The piano lid
Is lifted again
Cracker Barrel cheese, Bilberry wine
The wishing well
In softer focus
Turn
And turn again, taste
All that is here before you
Knock seven bells
Out of any doubt
One is dry, less moist
High, not to be foisted on the self
Try as you might
The tightness to resolve
Slight, an underhand accompaniment
Sent to be unpleasantly misspent
Lie as you might
The brightness dissolved
Back around the corner
Under overhanging shelters
With hoists and shackles
Toroidal, you swirl up and over
Below; the bedstead of dreams
With a warm, eclectic, Jewish audience
A tin of sardines
A ring pull of Blathering
The spoken words of Mr Eliot
And, in the shadows
The count of Monte Cristo
A plum filled pudding
Plucked strum of soft guitar
Drums over fallen fields
Older angels, and through the door
The whiff of drifted ‘Bisto’
Bacon, wrapped around
The slimmest of sausage
Dripped over and drizzled
Among the goose fat’s goose fat
Turn, twist, into a field of view
A scattering of leafless trees
A bunch, hung in mistletoe
Unsung but knowing
Over tiled rooftops on into grey sky
From a warm bed
With touch, without distance
Unseen but knowing
Fingers, footprints; my just to touch
Under quilted satin covers
With tender rapturous thoughts
Inclined, and yes, I showing
Laps of fabric, folds of skin
Gossamers of purest nightshade
Warm oils, burnt incense
The musk my love, flowing
