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

Friday 3 January 2014

The One I Don't Want to Name (Untitled)

Pulling water from my eyes,
I grew a thirst for the
Rain of English skies.

She put a spanish seed in my brain,
The desire grew and I flew to Spain.

She started a dance
That kept me in trance,
Then sent me spinning to France.

Slip away into the night,
Slip away into the garden,
Slip away into the flight. 
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