The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

-W.Shakespeare

Tuesday 17 April 2012

Unforgettable

Caught by the 
Thought of her.
Trying to forget
Something forget.
I woke this morning
To mourning.
Her face so faded
And jaded.
A blur with
A switch and the spur.
Feels like voodoo love
From above. 



April 17th 2012 
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