A testimonial for Monidipa

"Starry starry night portraits hung in empty halls frameless heads on nameless walls with eyes that watch the world and can't forget. Like the stranger that you've met the ragged men in ragged clothes the silver thorn of bloddy rose lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow. And now I think I know what you tried to say to me how you suffered for your sanity how you tried to set them free. They would not listen they're not list'ning still perhaps they never will." - Don Mclean - Vincent 

Returning from the wintry dark
That dims the world outside
Where in the park the snowflakes dance
And frozen shadows hide

You lean out of the window frame
Chipped and freckled paint
The river flows like time outside
And evening's light grows faint

Shirtless men in dirty clothes
Earthen cups in endless rows
Love upon a tearstained face
On a dusty darkened road

Visions swim before your eyes
Songs living in your head
Ghosts of fingers that have grasped
And tears that you have shed

You whisper in the darkened hall
The ghosts of thought reply
That no-one built of flesh and blood
Can hear the verse you sigh

Breathing couplets in the dark
Though none but you can hear
Soft sestinas in the park
Where snowflakes melt like tears

 And if the mermaids sing to you
Though they sing not to the rest
Write down what they say to you
For poet, you are blessed

 Poetry like raindrops fall
On rooftops parched and dry
Love songs that ring true and sharp
Are mingling with the sky

 Halos under street lights dim
Silence that can scream
Cigarette ends that tell you more
Than men can ever dream

 Turn the ashes back to flame
Rainbows back to dreams
All the beauty in the world
Is pouring out in streams

 Some of us are made of words
This world is just a book
Love is just a paper cut
That you for more mistook

 Words and metre, thought and rhyme
And if perchance to dream
Think not of me as any more
Than a stray sunbeam

 That flitters through your temple's roof
And lights the still dark room
Where motes of silver dust arise
And dance with your own gloom