Lonely as a Clown
(A play on Wordsworth’s “I Wondered Lonely as a Cloud”)

I wandered lonely as a clown
Who felt so high on narcotics and pills
Then all at once I furrowed a frown,
A ghost of golden foothills;
Abide with past, o’er seas,
Prancing I flounder to my knees.

Conspicuous are these tears of brine
And sprinkle in the same old way,
They fell like Benedictine
Along the corridors of time:
Ten rivers converged, it seems by chance
Taken the hand of pain to dance.

I ventured no further.

2002

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...