There are days, which fade the sky
To the framing of the rail
By the gaiety of good friends
Even as exhibits of joy we prepare
For the cleaning archaeologists to uncover
Laughter is poured into poured out bottles
Grapes we replace with smiles on the vine

Between sky and still life,
Our conversations collude
To create a collage of idleness
Stemmed from hearts that burn up the warmth
Of one song, with one hope, and one voice

Though I might drift among you
Like a bee about a meadow, know
That each greeting and parting
Is true in my heart and
I must needs miss you when I go

Written 18/06/2025