A poem that wouldn’t let me sleep last night
Where have they gone, the purple dusks,
The golden days of honeyed balm?
How did time tick tock so fast?
Slipped through the fingers, the small radiant joys,
In a cascade of colours, flowing like silk,
Into the vast, blue ocean no dike can hold back,
That we skimmed on snow-white feet for want of wings.
The soft nights and mornings full of love,
And the birds that sang their ancient songs
Among the spring and summer roses,
Long gone, their memory echoing sweet,
A scattering of feathers, like fallen petals.
Shadows on the flesh now,
The touch of a small, sticky hand in mine,
Sleek, warm, undemanding fur
Of placid, ephemeral companions,
And the heart overflowing, the arms overflowing,
With the glorious burden of a tired child,
All swept away, dead leaves in the wind,
The old rocking horse that gallopy-gallopied you off to bed,
Lost now beyond the bend in the road.