ˈlʌndən
The grey slate sits pretty over London,
Swallowing the adored.
I can wait for the future
As the past holds dear to me.
But a sweet abundant boy I met,
Whose plentiful smile sang,
And crisp reminders of memories forgot,
Within my ears rang.
Inspiration clouded my mind,
Dionysus frivolously rejoice!
Captured bliss unites,
A sincere charting voice.
Vivid, as a heated storm,
He echoed delights and rapture.
Fitting neatly in the night,
My thoughts did honestly capture.
Old Charlie lent a welcomed hand,
A pleasant, soulful input.
With allusive talk and rejected pain,
I sat silly while he cut.
Immersed deeply in melancholy words,
Fingers met cold tin.
He spoke and I did listen,
For such sense he did sing.
Daft shapes bounced from the rafters,
A subtle glimpse of heaven.
“My friend, I owe so much!”
My undying branded affection.
But each unnoticed hour crept,
Sunlight pierced the gaze.
Yet in your unbroken stare you wept,
“Please sweetly remember these days.”
Image By SAM LEDGER
Poem JOYOUS ENCOUNTER
By OLLIE GIBSON
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