Crafting a sermon of time
Upon a raft of art fine
Trenched in a lane
Best forgotten at the station
Awaiting a turn to board a train
Yet drenched in rain.
Held on a call
Home dialling in a distant
Dared by the cupid dice
Rolling us into lame lane
Dressed as fame of time
Yet in a rag slaying contest.
Drafted!
Chasing bees for a fix
Honey in thoughts
While awaiting a turn
To indulge in forbidden harvest
Heaven Fined.
I hold no right to say
But complain
As I dance in a hollow ditch
Having sang an anthem
Forever
Yet looped on petal troubles.
Delayed, painted on horizons
Spilling a little tea
To get me going on a torrent
Seeking guidance
To a rose sting.
Losing a tongue
In a dare
Floor scrubbed
While waiting for the stick
To do the dance with the tongue
Stirring us to existence.
Hold me close
As I drain my words out
Benching fear to a phrase
Wished for
Never to reach its intended
Secretly pursued.
