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Post by Dunstan Attard on Jun 13, 2007 0:00:20 GMT -5
southbank, shakespear's globe, drake's golden hinde, borough market, the lampposts, the river, and a majestic autumn brimming in a splendid joy...
By the river Where flaming leaves scratch my name in ambling water My spirit roams the globe Around fathoms of galeon spirits That like history groan, and like history rest by a market square In eyes of happy people Full of dreams I well remember; Dreams that rage a naked fire clad in ivy Embracing ageless time Where the bard is a city man; Where his hands probe limbs of foreign deeds Of wars and love and human boundaries Across the baking allies of st bride’s Where shadowed leaves remain unread.
So mine These lampposts That by the river-walk endure In tune with every changing season That melts like roses, curls like music Across the bridge That leads me to the buds of luminous ways.
I touch my hands And urchins become as durable As the perfume of the rustling leaves.
I need not dream of these paths Nor dream of dreams For here I stay in quiver of dreams Where the grass is as green As my first insatiable kiss
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