Albert Gazeley

Dear Reader

You were the missing piece of my rhyme
Thank God that you have arrived in time
Without you I would be locked here on the page
I’ve waited for you for what seemed an age

For days I’ve felt like a Genie in a lamp
In a sort of literary concentration camp
All I could do was question why
Then suddenly you happened by

Well dear friend, let us off to exotic lands
With pyramids and peacock fans
I’ll sit you on cushions made from purple silk
Serve you hobgoblin cake and camel milk

Yes, through the windows of my rhyme
I can take you back through space ...