Running through the streets of the soul
where leaves sleep in tousled heaps...

Hands reach,
Deceiving the eye...

Lulled by gentle, pulsing beat,
Away from gaudy, noisome life...

Drowsy water hangs suspended,
Reluctant to fall...

In springtime first I spied you fair
and lovely as a fleeting dream...

A hole it was, a rabbit hole,
So small and neat and round...

Muscles balk, daring to challenge
the mind that forces them on...

Alone it has no purpose.
Crouched there under the lamp in wait...

A walk,
Through lonely lanes in quiet solitude...

Underneath the plastic smiles,
Designer labels and the miles...

You feed me breadcrumbs,
stale and unappetising...

Sitting in the sun she drowses,
raising her face to bathe in the mid day heat...