Thursday, 19 May 2016

The Man Who Was Not There

As I was walking home one night,
I met a man who was not there,
He really gave me quite a fright,
Standing in the lamplights glare.

In quiet tones he spoke to me,
And told me all he knows,
Of secrets whispered on the sea,
And why the moonlight glows.

He told me of the cursed rose,
And the magic in a single smile,
Of all the power held in prose,
That makes our work worthwhile.

For many hours that night we spoke,
Of things I had not dreamed,
And when at last the morning broke,
All was no longer what it seemed.

In the morning light we bid farewell,
For he could stay no longer,
And as he vanished I could tell,
My mind was somehow stronger.

I think of him from time to time,
As I craft words in prose,
And as my words do intertwine,
I am sure somewhere he knows.

As I was walking home one night,
I met a man who was not there,
He showed me what it was to write,
A gift for us to share.








2 comments:

  1. That's a good one. It's got what I always try to write into my songs - Something I affectionately refer to as "The Spook."

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    1. Thanks! I really enjoyed writing it, it was one of those where I seemed to follow where it was going instead of the other way around :)

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