Adam’s Box

a Cliché, Adam is ‘rough’ on Christmas eve, the toss, the fall, the jingle and dull of good-news coins, a threat to measured rhyme and spell and toast, lost on the sanctuary steps of the Mall, and time, where mellow theatre exalts the gift of prosperity and yule-tide boast

 

Alpha avoids the man, a telling pass, heavy with the Call of Duty, for self,  perfumed charms and a King-sized box, too good for the asylum child, that other man at large amidst his Stock of men at arms, not spoilt enough on feathered rocks of promise, meek and mild

 

Fortified, he and myriad men go home at ease, no arm for a vagrant child that’s broke for love and cause, though warm to the child thats Home Alone to fight the burglar dark, a muse before the glamorous Nativity and the Midnight lark, of Jools-Time Blues

 

And the world sleeps sound as Alpha wakes, alarmed to find his own Child lost in the fantasy he makes, within the box that held the sanctuary gift, a castle that could never be home

 

And somewhere near yet far from Light, Adam’s lamentations requite to Christmas time …and Joy to the World’.

 

_____________________________
For Adam and for Deborah 

Both died 2018) within two months of each other in the same City;

‘Cloud Light’ Series

 

 

_____________________________
For Adam and for Deborah 

Both died 2018) within two months of each other in the same City;

‘Cloud Light’ Series