~~~
All through the woods and twixt the brooks...

A crispy silver moonlight shone
upon the frosty leaves...

Tail bent and buckled
Body painted with tyre marks...

Where are you now, my little one,
And are you resting comfortably...

I never understood the mess we made,
Nor could I come to terms with all we lost...

If fortune favours multi-rhythm words
By counting syllables amongst its boons...

I have never been the one to keep you warm,
Or stop the river freezing between your banks...

The moon is out of reach despite my need
to pull it from the space it occupies...

I tried to spark the sun at night,
But found the moon a stubborn foe...

With measured verse, I tried to make you hear
But meter fell to unromantic yards...

Into the ether and into the night
I tried to escape and to make this all right...

~~
Marigolds were yours...