My story my guild weaving stars in mane
8 January 2016
The memories askew the light at the end
The Lilies stood tall roots six feet under
The fall I recall lightning and thunder
The breath mill that slew I begged to pretend
Alas now I knew these ways would contend
My Heart stood at wall the feet mere blunder
The mind before fall amnesia’s plunder
The moments so few where the will would bend
I would then rebuild from thread of Heart wane
A distant glue spilled upon clumsy hands
A heart’s hoofbeats chilled upon frozen lands
My story my guild weaving stars in mane
The fool now so thrilled would make more demands
Cross me for oats milled sparse watery plain
Everybody’s gotta learn sometime – Beck
Windmills of your Mind – Sharleen Spiteri
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