Fergus Michael Condron
Blue Noodles And The Silver Moon
Twas christmas time in Oxford street, we shopped for presents, trying to be discreet, carols and lights that end so soon, blue noodles and the silver moon.
The cobbled street's of Tunbridge Wells, each time we kissed, it rang the bells,
love is all, when all cocooned, blue noodles and the silver moon.
Riding elephants on a Thailand beach, tsunami heartbeat and gentle feet,
blood red sky and clouds that swoon, blue noodles and that silver moon.
Summer in Paris, arms entwined, I loved you so, for you were mine, caress the louvre, mime the rhymes, bastille gate's they sense a crime, wicked feats condemn and soon,
blue noodles shiver beneath frightened moon.
Barcelona nights of a fashion lust, a tapas dawn and velvet crush, sense foreboding and creeping doom, blue noodles choke by a crying moon.
So tell me then, what changed your mood? I hoped to seek of a heart turned crude,
we said goodbye and I thus conclude, farewell blue noodles, adios sweet moon.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(22 March 1941 -)
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