from Poetry Shelf – Let me love

However wiser and a year older
As austere April arrived in a smoulder
to find us sewing our lives together
with the thread of the daily humdrum
what our wishful thinking will again
have It all over undone

Before the monsoon clouds come rolling in
and cast their shadows like a zepplin
before the rain, the gentle rain
becomes the ominous downpour
the may queen, the indian summer
surged in on an encore

and the rain came tumbling down
drowning in its cold embrace
every deluded soul on the streets,
every weary brick in the town
and so it said, as legends go
to the scorn of skies above
In a gentle cry, the earth replies
‘Let me love’
‘Let me love’

Let me love

However wiser and a year older
as austere April arrived in a smoulder
to find us sewing our lives together
with the thread of the daily humdrum
what our wishful thinking will again
have it all over undone

Before the monsoon clouds come rolling in
and cast their shadows like a zepplin
before the rain, the gentle rain
becomes the ominous downpour
the may queen, the indian summer
surged in on an encore

and the rain came tumbling down
drowning in its cold embrace
every deluded soul on the streets,
every weary brick in the town
and so it goes, as legends say
to the scorn of sky from above
In a gentle cry, the earth replies
‘Let me love’
‘Let me love’

On the road (Rendezvous)

Hither the traveller find themself on the road
the fabulous yellow roman candle existence exploding like spiders across the stars
The traveller carries on rather not cajoled by ten different voices speaking of the otherwise
and hither they carry on their unapologetic rendezvous with the road
the stories, the songs, the symphony that dissolves the day into the night
and the night perhaps precipitates to let the day breathe
and what remains of this is the romance with the oblivion
the love beyond all the loving of the world, the embrace of the unknown
the thrill in what the road might bring just around the bend
the kiss of the wind, the gaze of the horizon, the dance of dust, clairvoyant clouds
and this timeless dialogue continues