Saturday, September 24, 2016


And so there is no more art
No soft soul to now capture
All is now silhouette
Shadows that flicker
Upon greying sheets
Fading in dimming light
They talk of waning dreams
In ever diminishing splendour
And wither can I look?
We cannot gild memories
Burnish them ever bright
See them like clear flames
Rather than slices of time
From cake gnawed by instance
That all our dreams decorated