Listen To the Calm

There is a calm, a quiet calm, it follows a storm, a war, a quarrel; for example see, when the chimney-smoke flattens, and lies above the red bricks and hunting cats but scatters at the gull's urgent zoom: then there is a gentle calm, or perhaps it's grey? yes then, a greying-gentle calm,which having arrived, is butted by traffic sounds, and childrens' ice-cream shouts of glee and above all that, the cries and laughs of debutantes, in taffeta and chiffon skirts, looking for mister "right", or a duke or count then of course, quizzically, there's the gray-white calm upon your chair,(spilt sherbet), which works its way into your trouser seat; but let's not dwell on that and not least there is that peaceful calm, that dances, resolute, upon the bouncing bed of love; so settled now, its promises rarely kept thus then, the dipping, scattered chimney-plume, trips its last gay gavott, from stage to stage, alighting on the poet's page; then with addiction, and literary affliction, mounted broad on sword and pen; will skip the mordant wind, of gray and calm, quietening the alarm; for the grey, and the peaceful, lie hand in hand; to rest.