Ode to William

The river appearing solid moves on whether in light or dark
I hear its rushing in my ears as I lie awake in night
awaiting sleep to overtake my reason before
the succubus arrives to take away my
reason; there is a season for all
things great and small; we
all start with a crawl
from that primordial
soup onto a shore
long forgotten
in the mists
of yore
and if
I quothe
the raven
never more
nothing will hold
back the advance
of time and I acquitted
of all crime will fall upon
my knees and thank the Source
who planted humanity in our hearts
no go with all the other vendors with their
carts into the market place of thieves and try
and find one honest man in their midst with your
back stooped in age and your little candle and whose
name is on your lowly lips that I would know her if I say
her again, her soft plea lowering the drawbridge and opening
the rusty iron gates which we have shrouded ourselves in eschewing
peace like Jason and the Golden Fleece then Hermes will take me by
my hand and fly me back home again beyond the cloud studded sky
and hungry lands seared in the never ending sun perchance to dream
aye there’s the rub a tribute to fair William whose smiling muse awaits
me there with a locket of his hair for my fair adornment

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