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Charades II

Twas my impression, hours bending
infinitum in our minds' stall,
a ship to escape, deft sailors' call,
as times were hard and not ending.

Upon the ship were ghosts of souls,
as slow the dusk subscribed to night,
tulips of smoke, in hazed dim light,
three sailor forms in charades sprawls.

They danced and danced the nights after,
umpteen mimicks, and each mime word,
a riddle to enslave minds' circuit board,
ghosts jumped with their looney laughter.

We danced with them under the rain;
odd marionettes of dark ship hustle;
rotated round a conceived axle;
(the ship wants us to wind and feign) .

Across the shore, were scattered lights,
mere blinking to expend weak flames,
this dance eluded us to games,
and windy memories of kites.

We fled to reach happiness where,
the stars smiled to a careless void,
and none recalled his life destroyed,
and none recalled our dance of ne'er.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
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