Roulettes

by John Smallshaw
(London, England)

Thought transference..
..Is sadly an un-often occurrence.
But wouldn't it be fun to transfer a little bit of sun
Into the dullest of folk?

This is the spoke in my wheel that turns round
I have given my love to the stars up above..
..and found a certain delight.
If my sight was relayed the dreams that are splayed
On the waves of the sea.
I could see that the sea has given everything to me.

As soft as it rocks me to sleep
I enter into warm deepness..it keeps
This keel of mine even.
Never rocking my boat as I float unaware
Aware of no danger hidden in her.

I could blink and the world stays the same
Yet it alters in ways...that I couldn't name.
And the sea still remains transferring its power to the blood in my veins
I taste salt.

Adrift on this tableau I shift to and fro but the picture is still
The 'mill on the pond' of which I am fond is quite unlike this..
..touching of bliss
This kiss..this feeling I'd miss if I woke
The spoke in the wheel is so incredibly real
I turn round.