posted on January 21, 2012 at 9:07 pm

within the house of perpetual night

a wild and hungry evening

the people swarmed to the bars and restaurants

the phosphorescent  sea glimmered out there

no master could have captured its atmosphere

a boats lights bob in warm pinkness against the inky horizon

a breeze comes raking across the sea fresh from barbary

the elephant palms planted by queen Encelon

the tree lined boulevards lead to a lovely harbour

the people are affluent

the lamps in the houses are orange and red

where am i ?

lost in the breathless festival crowds

suddenly overcome by all the noise

then plunged into silence except for distant cars

the white noise of crashing waves upon our shores

the moon seems to moan

even the stars give off a slight sizzling sound

this summer of mans final times

a boat leaves for antioch

a ceremony to invoke a god with no name

prisoner in a cell who committed no crime

the arrival of love in the shape of a faun

always a summer though

the light through the trees

the nights were so warm the air was so dense

interwoven and bound in every sense

my holiday blurred through eyes of a boy

this night air is a miraculous cure for all ills

Encelon herself now sits in her arbour

surrounded by lodestones and pearls and in carnations

surrounded by paintings done by the masters

paintings of knights in lagoons and great muscled swans

paintings of heavenly visioned night encased within gold

dragged across unctuous membranes of silver

a faint electricity then follows the coils

Encelon in the warmth of her royal barbarian garden

reading her cards and drinking her tea

and the gardener who snips away at her hedges

and the cook who slaves away at her pie

and the riders who deliver her secret instructions

and the drivers who whisk her away to her sea

with all of that yet she cannot resist night

night has enveloped her favour in dark

night in the house of deep sleeping children

where summer co-ordinates their faded out dreams

summer and night go hand in hand

along marine avenue that leads to the boats

the water doth glitter and weave in its current

its easy to believe  some giant is under the sea

a worm from earths old days before its first rapture

a worm that swam in the depths of some sea

a huge black cold thing that knows all our names

it swims in the darkness of 5 thousand leagues

with every fathom it senses our coming

it smells all our souls from worlds away

but Encelon smiles in her garden of summer

the night reminds her of times long gone by

of dreams and of lovers who all run aground

before the reef of morning has loomed

the leaves outside her bedroom when she was a child

at night in summer they seemed to exult in these sea breezes

the night promised so much it could never deliver

each fool that believes it finds sorrow and blues

the night is a mercy on us shadowed in pain

but a night without sleep is an agony unequalled

you claw at its back but slumber is a beast

Encelon has spooked sleep with her trances and trinkets

in her sprawling mansion on top of the hill

she paces the floors until after the dawn

she sits by the fireplace all cold old and black

she watches the sun leap out of her sea

and me

i sit in this room

i paint and i write

i try my hand at a tune if i might

its quiet tonight

my own dear sleep beckons

i heed his heavy steps within my head



i hit bed




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