Hang The City Blue….

Ambient decibels merge the cities tempo
the comings and goings of the wilder beasts stalk
the lonely man in front –
Home is where we choose to live
the race is on – for those
who manage to get there first, amid the
ever frenzied chaotic rush.
I hate the City
place of birth, latch key kid, my
place of work.
Excuse me I say ‘do I know you’?
Seeing another stranger
offering me the eye!

I am not known for begging – ask anyone.
Nonetheless I want things to go back
to being the same – though different!
Allow me; to be your summer girl
all over again.
When young I remember painting pink roses
abstract fashion about my door.
That was before you changed
the landscape on my perspective of splendour.
I shall miss your pendulous beauty born not
out of vanity; that you display before my eyes.

All land is concrete, when your vision is absent.
Allow me, appointed surrogate protector
to mourn such a transitory attraction.
I would become archaic if not to see once more,
my violet blue addiction; my wisteria garnished in
her jewelled grandeur.

She makes me no guarantees –
I must bide my time in waiting patiently
to see if maybe next spring  she will
return  to court my thoughts once more….


Poppy June 2013 ~xx~




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