Heady days

Of all my many misadventures
The paths perhaps, I should not have walked
I regret not one
But all the same
I’m glad those heady days of my youth are done
And in my skin I can now be sure
This is where I belong



Clinging to the world of sleep
Embrace of times gone by
When the bright confusing jigsaw
Of our life
Is returned to us complete

Little feet

Little feet
One socked
One sock less
Dance over leather sofa
I must reach that book
A tiny voice cries
To place it from that pile
Into this one
And so the world is born

Write me a line

Write me a line
A beautiful line
That cuts me right to the bone
Else make me forget
And sink out of view
But don’t let me know that I lost you

(C) Copyright Mark B Williams 2014
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