Most pictures and words from Anthony C Murphy

Thursday, 16 June 2011


My love for her was muscular
No I do not mean that, although
In all our senses high and low

Begat and borne by supple wings
Only hollow bones, sinew strings
For force against the foreign winds

Angelic white within the mists
Of coastal climes and sea bound cloud
Boomeranging proud and playful

Joyous surf and youthful ocean
Beneath an easy gliding light
To reach her once again at night

So heavy feathered we rested
Together as one for a time
Sheltered even from the sunshine

Days of this escapist pleasure
Wrapped up in down filled solitude...
Outside there was another world

Everyday there is an end for
Little millions like Icarus
Who, sore in the morning, descend

May be my love for her was fluff
Just some stuff to feather the nest
And so enough, or at least best

This e-gull has landed to root
About in black plastic bin bags
Strewn throughout the desperate streets

Yellow eyed and fighting meanly
For any spilled scraps of a love
Left, yet wearily like the rest

No comments:

Post a Comment