Hearing Glory’s Music …

All that sinfully-wasted time –

Was it really so very long ago? –

All those fumbling words; so many

Maybe each of them would have lost interest,

Walked away, beyond my yearning reach.

And, all the while me, believing

I was dancing smoothly, faultlessly

In pure-diamond skies, hearing

Glory’s music in the slow-spiralling

Falls of angel feathers.

Could it be

I was, simply,

Always failing, slipping

Back to the minefield square

Where you have to throw a six,

Miss a go or

Pay a fine?

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The Obvious Fact

On this

Eve-of Aurora night

It can easily appear that

Every life is a cloudy draw.

If you can’t sit,

Can’t ride, the melancholy

And the expectations, then

The storm and the roads

Gonna see you off.

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