World
Music plays above the idle talk,
grey smoke drifts aimlessly over tables.
The blond haired singer, sleek and smooth,
in well-endowed, sequinned profusion,
glances towards your table, especially for you.
She leaves you the ability and substance
with which to fill your mindless void;
but do not dream in vain hope,
for dreams will pass onward by dawn,
Until the night’s blackness cloaks again,
bringing with it the twilight world.
© 1976 : Colin Gordon-Farleigh
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