Go darting, tripping, creeping & slyly peeping,
In sunlight, following, where shade is swallowing,
From womb times, celebrated & timely meeting,
And since then, go around every corner greeting.
Gaily growing in childhood´s playful daily capers,
Stalking adolescence, sulky, morose & mawking,
Go flying away & playing with windswept papers,
Flickering, kissed on the walls by lit candled tapers.
Now go hovering, skulking at my heavy ready tomb,
Ashen whipped, death-grey bent & Goth rose lipped,
Never leaving, growing with me & ageing far too soon,
Now holding hands together, going back to the womb.
© Sue Lobo
Excerpt from the book âThe Last Danceâ
Visit Author Page At:
http://www.ctupublishinggroup.com/sue-lobo.html
Photo Credit: © Lili Saatchi
