Today, in a strange confluence of events, I awoke to find a beautiful, sunny day, an awesome link on Josh's blog and time to listen to some Beckett.
The link is Bono giving a speach in the style of Beckett. It's good stuff. It made me listen to a couple Beckett works on Boris - my iPod. Man, could that guy write. He's definitely worth reading, and even more worth listening to.
"Birth was the death of him." Who could beat that for an opening line? Not many, that's for sure. I've never come close.
Anyway, it's spring. So, I blame the following on Josh, Beckett and the sunshine...
On Seeing A Young Girl In Spring
Soft hair blowing,
flowing. Golden.
Golden glowing,
blowing without a care.
Catching sunlight.
Bouncing, warm bright,
shining back just right.
Gleaming fire. Young, light hair.
No soft touch for me,
no careless brush
given light, and free.
So long since a breast seen bare.
Too far the years,
and with the years,
too many tears.
Love left, none to spare.
And, yet, young hair blowing,
softly glowing,
gently flowing,
Moves old heart to care.
5 comments:
Oh, that is very romantic! It reminds me of a poem I once wrote about tuna fish!
Nice, dude, very nice. I Googled some lines and came up with nothing, so I must assume it's an original? You shame me, sir, you shame me.
Stripey F. - Praise from a cat is high praise indeed. I fear I could never do tuna fish justice in the language of man.
Joshtastic - Yeah...I really did see a hot girl out walking today. She was walking, my fat ass was driving.
Shame you? Hardly. But it must be said that Bono is better than the both of us and Beckett was better still.
Oh, I don't know if it must be said. His head's probably big enough already.
Mmmmmm...Spring fever... I'm feeling a little of that myself. 'course, young girls don't so much do it for me.
Ah well, to each his own (or her own as the case may be)
Enjoy the sunshine and all the joys that come with it.
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