Friday, August 21, 2009


Sparkles, dancing on a calmed pond,
Reflection from the stars beyond.
Dark shadows baying across the space,
Wilting snowdrops with a dying grace.

Only the hoot from a lonely owl,
Beckons the sheep stir and shepherd scowl.
Night has fallen and left another day,
As I lay down, on a cold bed of clay.

Looking up to the stars far and wide,
Contemplating, how warm to sleep inside?
Traveling the roads from dawn to dusk,
Sometimes begging, sometimes I'll busk.

Chattels in my bag, coat upon my back,
Dreams have come true, tracing my lonely track.

John R Bacon
Copyright 1976

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