Something I wrote a long time ago, as the date indicates. But I thought Id put it up here anyway.
The tides of time rock the isle of the mind.
The world mirrors that interminable sequence.
A welcoming door on an empty street,
The unconscious patter of well shod feet,
Its the most random thoughts that make most sense.
The air is heavy with the smell of rain.
The twilight softens the garish hues.
A cute girl with a smart lad,
The waitress with her note pad,
Its the obvious things that are most abstruse.
The cafe is mellow with the sound of voices.
The music lightens the sombre mood.
Blinking lashes and twinkling eyes,
Stunning truths and prosaic lies,
Its the highbrow things that are shallow and crude.
The curtains are billowing with the freewheeling winds.
The landlady brightens the room with her smile.
Hot coffee in a large mug,
Tired feet on a soft rug,
Its the forgotten heroes who were devoid of guile.
The dull grey skies are darkened by ominous clouds.
The flowers splash colour on old wooden tables.
A haggard face and a meditative sip,
A lovelorn gaze and a quivering lip,
Its the most honest men who are acting out fables.
The cobbled walks beyond the windows are wet.
The smell of fresh bread perfumes the air.
Faded paintings in bulky frames,
Old men playing quiet games,
Its only tired folk who want the world to be fair.
The raindrops carried by the swirling winds are cold.
The slight smile cannot hide the determined chin.
A broken nest by a fallen tree,
A lonely speck on an empty sea,
Its when the storm without is loudest that peace reigns within.