Vic

You and I are alike.
The old Roman knows us well.
He relays our story to Mars and Nike
As the monster’s hunger swells
To feast upon the harvest moon.
And two broken hearts will mould as one,
Love’s dawn retreats unto noon,
When your poppies blot out the sun.
 
Blood-drunk we will lie in scarlet hue
Then swim to shore from that bird-nest skull
And gather drops of sweet morning dew
From daisies, our tread will loosely cull.
Unchain me from these tartan fallacies.
I care nothing for those cotton legs.
Bring back to me unholy fantasies
From the bottom of bottles and the base of kegs.
 
Tankards at the ready with armoured glass
Stand strong, their duty to fulfil.
We’d greet to them the juice of grass
That we’d butchered by chance on the hill.
I can still see the smoke or was it clouds,
From that witch they tried to burn?
Now heather blankets and gently shrouds
Your gas-lit gaudy urn.
 
I tried to poke but you would not rise.
Then some more I aimed to stir.
‘til gold fell from my stained-glass eyes
And I knew just where you were.
Standing by the lantern shore
With silver on your face.
The bastard’s daughter! The poet’s whore!
Neither worthy of your grace.
 
A tortured pillow now holds my head,
I can see you in my sleep.
In dreaming, I find life; in living I am dead.
Such is the fate for a man among sheep.
I’ll try to trick the ferryman,
I will play some callous trick.
To return to you and live again,
To see my darling ,Vic.