Sky aflameWith vermillion passionAdriftEmpty streetsSilently serenadeSilkenWithin my pocketHemingway humsStatic.

The night, cold and silent,Held a warmth and soundThat echoed through my thoughts.It wasn’t deafening as it crashedAll around, only mildly amusing.The shadows devoured the lightWhich gracefully enhancedTheir deep rich darkness.The world circled and danced,Leapt and ran, swimmingThroughout the witching hour.

You wrapped your wings against my soul,calmly cascaded tears into eternal waters,where I sat in solitude, waiting ephemerally,for those hours of lost comfort once again,how long ago did sleep become such an end?

Emerald leaves crossed our pathswith veracity marked in golden drafts,somewhere deep amid the pending vapoursof humility and dance,did we dance across the skies?

Was it privilege to love you?Painted hues of viridescent livesto those lost seconds when we sawthe world begin again in strides.

What sanctuary is there in indulging the whims of falling stars?

I wondered where those roads, in which the world diverged,became the promises of another life, the hilly embankment that touched the horizon intranquil virescent spikes, splattered with hazel lines, that conquered truth and candour.

Autumn rolls against us―outside the morning chorus―you roll over― held in ivory sheets―looking― dawning tendernessin sleepy auroras sermon― animationpaved the simplest rule―along those stationary moments―and I fell for you in those words―it's so hard to get out of bedwith you there―

There’s a heat wave comingThe wireless claims, a British summer,Of wants and expectationsThat never seem to materialise.