God Lights a Cigarette
On the wood, shadows. Down the
windows, hazy through the drapes
spills the rain. The night,
curving rolling with motion still
whispers with winters needley lips
everything is passing through me.
There is you with your joy – me,
I’m trying to find depressions,
though I’m not sure what I feel.
You are magic mingling essences –
I am day dreaming on physical matters…
my lamp flickers with distress,
it moves the room with my voice:
To be born of your music,
in your magic my life blooms,
my thoughts, words – dissolve into
rich emotions tuned to immortality.
Lost in the lighting of a match,
in between the space and flame –
I become the sparkle in your eyes,
then I return…
Slowly I am returned,
I am the gold ring in your ear –
the unnoticed sensation.
You are cosmic and I am waiting
for the next match.
With regards to Dennis Greig Editor, Lapwing, Belfast – sorry for spelling your name wrong earlier.