Our summer is on the wane
The days grow short
And the night brings a chill to the air
***
She lies before me, naked
This flower, this rosebud
Her lips move, but no sound do I hear
For the language of the body speaks so clear;
Torso, arms, legs and sex with one voice pleads
'Make love to me'
But I can not; my love has grown cold
And the fragrance of this flower
Which to me was once so sweet
Now reeks with the scent of death foretold
And to the bewilderment of her perplexed eyes
I turn my gaze from her and walk out the room
One last time
***
The early frosts have taken their toll
On the last bud of summer
Its petals wilted
The flower dead
As I pluck it from the stem
A thorn punctures my finger
And a solitary red tear swells up
And as I drop the flower to the ground
I mournfully whisper her name
"Rosebud... Rosebud"

Aboard a rush-hour train

Evening - aboard a rush-hour train
Oh, how I hate this means of transportation
Not for its convenience, nor its speed
In delivering me to my destination
Nor it unerring regularity
But for the feeling of utter
And absolute awkwardness it imposes
Upon me.

A million downcast eyes glance around
Uneasy in their gaze
They dare not look directly into
The eyes of others
And so paranoid are they
That they fear even looking at anything
They feel is being watched by another

As for me on this occasion
I'm one of the fortunate few
With a window seat
I peer out past the glass
At that great watery-sunset
And its shimmering reflection
Cast upon the Clyde
And at that wonderful sky
With its bands of colour
As deep as fathoms
And I watch that great wave of starlings
As they swim through the sky
In crests and troughs

In the distance
I see massive islands of grey clouds
How effortlessly they blend
With the even further distant hills
And in this scene of immense beauty
I escape my awkwardness
And this brief moment seems to last
For an eternity


Between Time
                          (for J)

The sky's showing to rain
With a face of disbelief
I fall into the room of my dreams
A certain emotion blown in on the wind
Slow, hazy, self-propelled
Memory aching to the point of bursting
I slide back into your life again
You into mine
Time warps and wrinkles around
Swarms, engulfing my spirit
You're the air drifting around my senses
Smaller, thinner, sinking toward me
Hovering somewhere between past and present
Wandering above and below time
Weightless
A hand reaching out to beckon or reproach
Face poised above, tightly framed
By long locks of black hair
Pouting lips caress and flirt by without touch
Imagined for a moment you still cared
But those dark eyes, below pencilled brows
Shone bright and clear
Eyes full of a look of such disdain
I raise a hand full of longing
A tear welling in my eyes
You as elusive as smoke
Fade and vaporise before me
The moment, the emotion passes by on the wind
Which pushes rain against the window
Time crawls slowly, ever onward
Alone again
Wipe away the tear
Listen to the wind playing in the trees
All the darkness outside my window