Been drinking till the dying light of spring
Dictated that we headed home by train
Or bus, or in my case, just staggering
And here I am now, safely home again
My eyes are aching and my thoughts in vain
Try to roam poetically but fall short
Of anything that could, long-term, remain
To establish itself in western thought
But maybe that’s because I haven’t caught
Enough sleep. Consequently I’m struggling
To compose eloquently, and the same
Tired nonsense is all that my thoughts have brought
I must end now, early night beckoning
My bed is calling where I’ll soon be lain
Thur 22 May 2008
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