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A Prodigal
DL (2/3/87 / Middlesbrough)

A Prodigal

Poem By Emily Pauline Johnson

As dreams of Eden weave the summer settled leaves
Upon the stability of long established trees, the winter
Adheres to autumns pleas and waits a while to take her throne.
To send autumn home as the cycle turns, she tells her sister to
Watch and learn, stripping the trees of their splendour, leaving
Them bare boned skeletons frozen in hibernation

Angels fallen in snow unsettled,
Scatter limpid flaked wings in their wake.
All it is your birds are calling for they say,
One more song to sing, one more dream from which to shake
The nightmare of descent, cascading into darkness the nights
Know no boundaries of time, playing their tricks upon the
Perceptions of the mind, never knowing when to sleep, when to seek shelter
How are to keep our sanity dry as the snow melts to liquid cold.

Running down the stairwell, wide eyed starry gazed children
Await the festivities as the elders blow upon their palms, gathered
Around a fire, keeping their calm whilst below the surface excitement bubbles
Frothing, their stomachs yearning upon the aroma of spit roasted beasts turning.
Slothing in the mould of an armchair caress we envision royalty, in procession,
In flamboyant concession, in obsession of possession, still this won't keep them warm
As winter whips the winds to fury.

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