thelibraryrooms

Stop, halt, no go
You call out
But they do not stop
No, they go on
Hey
It is not right
You know you need to fight
Call out
Stop
Try to catch an eye
Shout loud
But they do not hear
Walk on with no fear
From your place
You see it all
The train
The track
You try to act
Bang on the glass
Too late
The girl, the man
A train
Fate

Leaving Manchester for the last time
Window wound down a crack
Head resting, sun reflecting
The journey home

Rainclouds; typically gathered
On the edge of things
Any minute now that blast of summer
Showers will pass 

You are ready, bags packed
Farewells said, no need to grieve
You leave as others have
You will return

Yet still you turn your face,
Seep out tears for a youth lost
In greyed out northerness
You will come back

The pull of her liquid eyes
And you are enraged
She is infected with sighs
Diseased by that desired

A classic sign of craving
What she should not want.
Now a promise; behaving
You enter the détente

You maintain a grave silence
Whisper, quietus
She objects, is defiant
‘Leave,’ she says, ‘you must.’

Annoyed
Bitter
Enraged
Irate
Impassioned
Indignant

Lady calling out as was (Seven letters)
Mine’s a pint of… (Six letters)
Dan and 4 out of 5 in green are all mixed up (Seven letters)
First person gives a grade (Five letters)
Ardor is within an abbreviated being and the past (Eleven letters)
Split the public house by loving and adding an insect (Nine letters)

You speak in the code of silence
Her stupidity your licence
The trigger; her own sin
An idiotic lack of discipline

She needs to learn the gift
Of less is more, that thrift
Will see her through this
What’s lost is not amiss

She should seek to be more steady
Learn that her idea of heady
Instant friendship is a crime
Maybe then she’ll take her time

Or like the fool she’s prone to be
She’ll regret her idiocy
And stagger back into obscurity 

I fell into the trap of modern technology
The arrogance and immediacy of response
The filter not set
Now I regret

A temptation I should have known to avoid
A need for speed and preference for words
Better not said
A feeling of dread

Old and wise enough to know better
I also know when to say sorry
An apology
Unconditionally

she runs again
after the winter of discontent
after the dissatisfaction of stillness
the girl born to fidget and flight
runs again

night running
the frigid twist of bitter chill
from the air, fills her lungs,
as she runs, she lights
the night

pathways and pavements,
surprised strangers,
the boy by the lake night fishing
meet her and the dance
of her steps from home

The fates find you for me
The fragile filigree
Of emotion forms
At first fascinating

We are finally joined
The thirst of our eyes
Thrills through our flesh
We are united, we are one

Your displaced hate grows,
Destroys, replaces feeling
Until I mourn, despair
That I chose to care

Fate takes your hand
Leads you away, turns
To smile awhile, her grin
Mocks my foolish fascination

lost here without you
last winter frost on window
warmed by memory