posted on December 29, 2015 at 9:27 pm
glimmer time

glimmer time

impossible soft summer night

with the sea at the end of the road

with all the fernery and greenery

plants growing everywhere out of pots and out of darkness

you have arrived here tonight received unto this night

subtle meek cool and warm

oh charming evening where faint effulgence of celebration still lingers

people laughing talking drinking meeting at tables before the beach

you slip amongst them unseen untouched unthought of

a dream from your bed you have been pulled

the waves crash on the shore

that delicious salty smell in the ether

whirlwind of colour now smeared to purple in the sky

lanterns in the trees and eventide birdsong

theyre playing the drums and dancing around

yellow sand like a slipper

yellow stars like dim diamonds

you see it all before you like a moving painting

the moon and the clouds and the cities and the ghosts

there will be a future that we will have no part of

all of this will still go on…oh yes…without you and me

we have no way of knowing we have no way of seeing

so soak up this evening before it is gone

and for now let your dream ring on


16 Responses to “balmy breeze/ the gentle drone of traffic”

  1. avatar
    Chris | 29 December 2015 at 9:55 pm #

    poignant delicate…like the feathery brushstrokes of a Renoir

  2. avatar
    Cath | 29 December 2015 at 10:19 pm #

    little boat
    set thee
    a strong sail
    more bounty to haul

  3. avatar
    monica | 30 December 2015 at 5:17 am #

    your recent posts have been amazing.
    and this is glorious.
    i am left with a profound feeling of peace…
    and i do hope that you are at peace, as well.
    wishing you all the best in the new year, steve.

  4. kevinbreton
    kevinbreton | 31 December 2015 at 5:18 am #

    Really beautiful Mr Kilbey! With a touch of George Harrison within you without you at the end. But better! It has more gusto of the church in the words. The Church. What a peculiar band. Like something I dreamed as a kid playing music in forests and stuff. God bless Kev

  5. kevinbreton
    kevinbreton | 31 December 2015 at 2:10 pm #

    In the sense of a ghost smoking a cigar it makes no difference for only then do you find the constitution of night where it lies without any thesaurus to lay claims at a solitary auction as bubbles could never be sold in spite of it all. And tailors disregard your interest in the cosmos because miniature ladders could not reach to the destination prescribed by the doctor. A TV set then says things it thinks are interesting but are truly not and this makes you apathetic in the shortened time zone of umbrellas which calculate up to the number of infinity minus 1. And then going forth and exploding into a miniature supernova perfectly suitable for anonymous retail or the sad drums of a child toy soldier in the manner of every Thursday as you trust in a raindrop.

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 31 December 2015 at 2:24 pm #

      very breton

      • avatar
        Cocoamo | 1 January 2016 at 7:15 am #

        And yet, what does it all have to do with mashed potatoes not having bones?

        Nonetheless, Happy New Year to you all.

        Your Friend in Pennsylvania (now in Cocoa Beach)

        p.s. Beautiful prose Steven, really quite lovely

  6. avatar
    Therese | 1 January 2016 at 1:11 pm #

    Happy New Year

  7. avatar
    Lyra | 1 January 2016 at 8:07 pm #

    Happy New Year

  8. avatar
    isolde | 2 January 2016 at 12:50 am #

    Thank you for writing this for ten years I really appreciate it and am still amazed as I was that first day I read it

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