Dezember 7, 2016 by Trevor Dalton

No apologies , a finished book poem and a pre-edit of ‚A COLD FEAST.‘ Still thinking about the book but also waiting for the next inspiration to take over my days and nights

  A  Melancholic  Goodnight 


The night falls softly, its fingers dragging its cloak

Its blackness closing all light sadly

Tippy toeing around the sky

Snubbing out the stars casually


Sipping malt I try to embrace the stillness

But only succeed in melancholy

The whiskey burns and needs more water

Or would ice assuage my sagging spirit


I sit with my blank screen collecting words

Posing as some special poet but

In truth I’m probably plagiarising others work

In my relentless drive to create


From my seat I can now hear the rain falling

Though deaf I still feel its presence

Wrapping my soul like a flannel

Denying even a towel of tenderness


My cousins’ painting fills my mind

The night watch crouched around my imaginations fire

But who the hell do I think I’m kidding

To assume this has any relevance.


I should shift the mood and be grateful

I am alive, I breathe, I am alive

I beat the demons of illness to survive so

Write out disappointment, try and regain a kind of ‘stable’


But from my night watch

I crave some self serving indulgence

Grant the respite of passing sadness

And let me enjoy this divine madness.

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