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Posted by Philip Patston on 10 January 2009, 3:51 am in


finally he thinks he has found

the one who has no bounds

the one who overwhelms

who he trusts to share the helm

and yet he holds back

weary of attack

not of combat, but the doubt

of history and he shouts

he is overwhelmed by him

completely in the realm of him

and yet he won't know how to be

you and me, him and i, or are they we?.

and he remembers to wait and see.

the time is short since other lives

were fraying, cut, reluctant knives

of passion soaked in safeness, sad

with glimmers of a myriad...of dreams