The Lost Poem
Last night as i lay in my bed,
the story of my life was read,
in neon lights the words were writ,
the tragedy, the comic wit,
brought first a smile, and then a tear,
all i had loved and lost made clear.
As rythmic as an oceans swell,
in searing beauty rose and fell,
dramatic as a moonlit rose
in elegant, mesmeric prose.
I knew i need not make a note,
like stars across an inky sky was wrote,
those words! piercing as a curlews song,
how could i know, they'd soon be gone?
How could i have been, such a clown,
not to write the genius down?
and now the world will be bereft
i have no wit or wisdom left,
For in the morning, when i woke,
the stars were gone, the magic broke.
The landscape of my life, made beautiful last night,
was as the mist upon the fields, gone by morning light.
No last resort, no repartee, was left inside my head,
except to say 'oh, Rue the Day! '
and, 'oh, if only...' (those saddesr words!) ..i had got out of bed!