the song righter wrong

oh the sea was so warm in the afternoon

drifting in my deckchair i follow all kinds of thoughts

the ideas swimming vanishing appearing whispering names

names of the dead i need to remember sung in a song

swooning in the spring sun a white light has begun

awake in a dream midships  a trireme upon the seas of africa

in the viridian light behind my eyes a field is blooming day and night

scrambled in the rambling ambling time and heather brae billowing hills

i saunter through meadows of milky carnation and emerald clover like green carpet

the mossy tinged basalt cracks like a giantess in stone

the lovely dells air hung with spells

well october is there in the gurgling brooks and all the feathered nests

the jangling seabreeze blowing through old forks and spoons

the washed up nets and sinkers stranded with bottle and cork

the blanched star of bethlehem burning bright in your room of jars

the bladders of wine and the clear flasks of italian water

awaken to the sound of strange birds in the unkept garden

where the twisted sculpture sags nagged down by century rust

where the old ladies dressed in black mourn some martyrs death

the music fills the resurgent thrust of love in wee small hours

then the candle glimmering in sandalwood smoke soaks up the air

and things you will forget when you are gone