The wallpaper’s peeling off the walls
Paint is flaking from the ceiling
My carpet is wearing thin
Turning grey in patches
Brown spots upon my hands, my face
Old age is slowly revealing…
Yet my mind is sharp
Refined like that of an aged patrician
Understanding these times we live in
Navigating shrewdly, wise, silently
Seeing with my ears-Hearing with my eyes
Feel like an ancient magician…
A sturdy vessel, creaking deck
The wind has turned
Set sail for home
Hold full of treasure
Pirates of the Caribbean
Never lived this long
To enjoy a life of leisure…
Davy Jones locker calls us all
At times we don’t expect
I have lived a life I love
Paying the price-Often shipwrecked
Writing to patch my sails
The heart of an ordinary extraordinary man
A breathing contradiction…
Life not about places, spaces
But of conversations, chance meetings
Fools wander-Wise men travel
For many it unravels
No skin in this game
The Pleiades is calling me home
Beckoning my soul…
For those I truly love
I love deeply
‘It’s over the hill’
Shouts the wag
The promised land!
I gave up that search long ago
As the walls came tumbling down
The village idiot the wisest man
Stumbling around town
Wearing secondhand robes
Once donned by Judges
A cake box worn as a crown…..
Mark C Bolton
April 2024
Image by TC