Monday, February 21, 2011

Lightbulbs in Euston Square



A heavy evening hung,
hung in Euston Square.
A dull and heavy evening.
a February affair.

Grey and black overcoats
sailed with little heed.
Grey and black and grey again,
overcoats, gaining speed.

In grey and black pentagons,
the sky was wrapped up well.
Yet in all the dullness there,
Lightbulbs cast a spell:

Cheerful chains of lightbulbs
like dewdrops on a branch,
hung above his head and asked,
"Ever seen words dance?"

He sipped his coffee and said, "No!"
"That of course cannot be!".
He blinked and saw indeed it's true,
His words he could see!

In tufts of mist his breath did prance,
Every tuft did waves advance,
And every word was plain in glance,
Below the bulbs his voice did dance:

He softly laughed, it fanned apart;
He said "Go!", and saw it flow;
Screamed a "Hey!", it did a sway!
He smiled and the mist shied away :)

Among long overcoats he found
A silver cast to mould his sound,
Under lightbulbs on a barren tree,
Speech as silver as can be.