Christopher Flaherty Poet Free verse

Lack of Senses

Whence misty eye's are in the 
shortest of supply on tepid day's

Pop the cork on that vintage
finest magnum brut champagne
you we're saving for a special
occasion

And raise a toast to everyone and
everything you are going to miss

Every girl you wished you had
kissed and opportunity that
went aria for fear to tread

And put to bed all solom regret

Because the time has come
for one and all

To call upon said ticking clock
at hour half past six

And replace the carpets shed and
so threadbare

And stained roses that are but 
petal buds laden with despairing
apparition

On mantle such lacklustre ornaments
denoting spring is out of season

That no one but the clouds abide to

For when the funeral carriage
horse's return to hey laden stables

And their blinkered eye's once
covered up are opened wide

Do not a tide of leaves wish to 
leave in their wake

For fear they know and understand
the purpose of their daily commuting
of their charges

Followed by the weeping mourners
dressed in blackened amplitude

Know they are but one small step behind

And more poignant also now one step 
closer also

To seeing their cherished loved
one's once again

So lest us not come to recall
upon this day with dread and
sorrow

But rather as our parting shot
across the bow of earthly death
and tears

Safe and comfortable in the
knowledge

This is the beginning not the end

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