The air is like quartz, whilst I’m running out here
in crystalline fields. And although it’s a mere
afternoon, I feel that I could just go
anywhere, everywhere, finding I’ll know
everything, all-things, uncovering all
secrets and mysteries, held by those tall
dark hills, and dark trees, which recline up high,
quiet old gentlemen, glancing down sly.
They’re good friends of mine in this serenity,
those signs of the natural sincerity.
They call to my mind of the days which are gone,
bright summer days writing out on the lawn,
those days I’d do all, with just so little fuss,
like clear Autumn noons where I’d walk to the bus,
where I would just follow a tawny haired girl
whilst somehow I’d feel my own wings just unfurl.
She’d turn and she’d smile with a pure clarity,
and my heart would just leap with a wild fantasy,
of walking past castles, ablaze with the sun,
and watching white city lights whilst on the run.
I’m rejuvenated by talking sometimes,
on cold kitchen floors, and the hot meadow climes:
when people will open their hearts up to me,
and into my warm loving mind they will see.
But after the wonderful spiralling high,
I’ll descend to a boundless cloudy dark sky:
it’s there where I’ll stand so extremely alone,
and lose myself whilst looking down at my phone.
Voices will speak, and they’ll never desist,
“You’re nothing you just don’t deserve to exist.”
And though there are people who’ll look out for me,
I wish that, from this darkness, I could just flee.
But I know that I am just bound to catch sight,
Of a pleasant little yellow ray of light,
And then when I run into blueness I’ll burst,
Whilst harbouring some kind of quenchable thirst.
The trees and the hills they will smile at me,
(My friend runs beside me in pure ecstasy)
around me I’ll see those who say ‘thou and thee’
and faeries who’ll watch from a spiralling tree,
and zeppelins high in a scarlet wracked sky,
and dragons, through polarscape clouds they will fly.
My trainers, oh they will just pound out a sound
which evokes four friends, irresistibly bound
to one-another, who create such a power,
which evokes a bright and a blossoming flower.
But soon I’m approaching a dark, tawny gate
and now I will carry a burden-like weight.
Will I smile? People will hope to ascertain,
And I’ll just say, “Well mate,
when I run again.”