In the same destructive way
|
Your broken bridge lies in the hay
|
You cannot spell you only lean
|
Where magic words direct the stream
|
|
|
Underneath this buckled quilt
|
Flowers old and precious wilt
|
They take you to a bluster place
|
And dance around your face
|
|
|
Safer calendars I have seen
|
But whoever knew what months must mean
|
I sail the skies and fly through the sea
|
No miner, cook or fool can die so weakly
|
|
|
Hasty dashed in quicker clothes
|
What if the fishes eat the loaves
|
Backward buildings drop to dust
|
Gutters turn to rust
|
|
|
I stamp my feet and scare the ghost
|
Welcome that dimension's host
|
He flickers and snickers into his robe
|
And skips around the globe
|
|
|
During weeks when I was grey
|
I posted night to greet the day
|
I shunned the light for beams of black
|
No sailor, ship or sea can sink on land
|
|
|
The lantern swings until your arm hurts
|
And all you did was signal your demise
|
|
-----------------
|
The Lantern
|
Marty Willson-Piper |