The whisper that Time

says goodnight in

is only as forceful

as you wish

it to be, as beautiful

as you allow it and as outrageous

as you dare it, Time cares

not in the end how you take

note of the whisper, only

that you hear it, only that it will

be heeded, walk not into the light

without having first kissed

the whisper, without gently

asking it to remove its feminine

blue trilby and the decaying rose

between its polished teeth

and let you taste the flavour

of lipstick upon its starched iron mouth;

whisper till the dawn fades

for in the final evening,

you can say you

were much loved

once.

 

Ian D. Hall 2016