The Gift

I weep for all that I have lost
I drown within my tears
The road is long and dark and cold
The gift is all I fear

A Lost Weekend

A dirt road in a hired car

With a lover unfamiliar
A distant light or evening star

It hardly really matters

A pampered bed in paradise

The books of Alexandria
A glass of port and deep remorse

The child we called Amnesia

The scent of roses fill the room

A robe of finest silk

Falls abandoned to the floor

To be walked on in the morning

The chaise lounge,

the wrought iron grill

A promise made and broken

She stabs her teaspoon in my heart

A Curate's egg for breakfast