I sit poised, waiting,
Fingers held
in readiness
For inspirations
flow
But plagued
by hoards of micey thoughts
I stare
through dirty windows
I want to
write
On shadows
Cool shades
of the street
That creep
and sneak
But shadows
disappear
Then I try
to write of love
Of eyes
with passion lit
And romance
dark and brooding
Yet I must
confess my cynicism
Of lust
flamed love shot eyes
I’m back to
shadows
This time
mine
The shadows
of my soul
Shadows not
on the street
But those
that creep and sneak in me
And still
the words don’t come
Perhaps it
was Aunty Val who stayed too late
That
thoughts are like sluggish sewage
The windows very dirty
And shadows
cross my desk
I’m back to
love
This time
kisses
The opening
lines
Kisses are
a sign of love
Then kiss
me not
Once again
the words submerge
Bubbles in
murky mess of mind
Perhaps the
words may
Or not….
perhaps
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