tripped at a walking pace, flown in a song
Upped and left without a word
unvoicing its regret
sensing the times no longer suit
that strife and stress inimical
will choke the breath at the point of life
smother the fire to smoke?
Oh is it true the poem's gone
borne on a warmer breeze
in at the window like Peter Pan
to gladden another's heart
who'll turn the kaleidoscope
tumble
watch the words as they fall
and capture a passing rhythm
rhyme
a moment's happy chance?
11th March 2014, Hounoux
