Memories of a 1960’s summer
The way through the woods, sparkling moonlight
Dark shadows seek attention, eerie tones whisper a secret
The flicker of an oil lamp in the gamekeeper’s cottage fearful
Sinister beauty, the magic of a slum street tune, the wisdom
of a sun street moon
Magic madness on the never-ending evening path,
wonderful counterfeit miracles
The torn pocket of the trickster disturbing the toads sleep
Jackdaw eyes in a face of tree trunk bark
We will walk that way of leaf mould chatter till time is done, our words chained to songs
that break hearts and cheat death.
The empires of the sun and moon gold honey gone
It was youth that inhibited our midnight kisses and celibate passion
The fast fading sparkling moonlight took us to farewell’s gate
Drunk with fatigue we simply disappeared, gone like the swallows from the yellow barn
down at Frogs hall lane.