Poems, January 2024

The summer is hot
The days are at their longest
Time for us to play

The autumn cools down
Days shorten the tree leaves fall
Time for us to shed

The winter is cold
The nights are at their longest
Time for us to rest

The spring will heat up
Days lengthen the trees flower
Time for us to bloom

I want to type but
the easiest key to hit
Is always backspace

I bloomed in the past
and stood in the light
I showed off my colours
and was once quite a sight

The light now reveals
creases and decay
I know what is coming
I'm withering away

My winter is coming
We only have one
My autumn is passing
I'm losing my sun

But having once felt it
I do know for sure
The nature of beauty
Of wonder and awe

Everlasting for all
Momentary for me
Others will feel it
As it always has been

Winter is cold
This is the norm
But knowing others will summer
Will keep me warm

Warm as I shiver
Shine as I fade
Large as I shrink
Grow as I decay

Time never feels
As I want it to

I thought it would be empty
I thought it would be quieter
I thought that I would sit
When it returned from the summer

But inside Trakosia
There were too many people
There were not enough seats
To move you would wriggle

Wriggle through the door
And between patron tables
They could spare no seats
They simply weren't able

And just when we thought
It couldn't get worse
Came a huge double bass
A blessing and curse

It squeezed through the door
The tables were shuffled
There was no room for us
We were kind of in trouble

We wandered outside
And sat in the sun
Our quiet calm place
But not very fun

That was until
We remembered we could
Play music ourselves
So decided we would

We weren't quite as many
We weren't quite as good
But we did it without them
We learnt that we could

As the sun fell
The patrons left slowly
We went back inside
More homely less lonely

We found enough seats
And joined the other musicians
But most of our night
had passed by without them

It didn't matter much
But it's always much better
To find somewhere to sit
And play music together

We thought they knew it all
But they never knew more than us
They just knew different things
And we were curious

The clarinet at the church hall
Was once a clarinet in the village

The clarinet in the village
Was once never a clarinet at all

Things can't be the same now
They weren't even the same then

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