Friday, 20 July 2012

Down's Supper

One day I joined some folk I loved
sitting in a ring,
eating up their fish and chips;
not saying anything

and, in-between their little band,
I caught a special smile;
a secret in a private club
connected for a while.

It’s rare to clock a mystic note
and inner sweetness roaring
magnetism in a ring;
a cloud of magic turning.

They touched each other in a glow
that left me far behind,
sensing I could never flow
with my mutilated mind.