The Turning of the Tide *

18 April 2018 By Burnt Off
How didst thou set to sleep
My little chief librarian ?
Didst thou read the book of Kells
Or, perhaps, a Tale of Cities intertwined,

My cherubic biblitist ?

A verse of Oxford encyclopaedic rhyme ?
Some Annals mythic filled with Herculean tasks ?
The Master of us all – dear William Shakespeare ?
Perhaps the complete and fullest
Volumes of Sherlock
Late of Baker Street
Did guide thee to thy rest ?
(Or a sip of rosé wine methinks)

Indeed I sleepest poorly,
spouse of no regard.
My “Womans Own” and “House and Home” Did keep me continent and free.
The bard is not my taste I fear ; nor thimblefuls of wine – nor thee!

It was the worst of times **
It was the turning of the tide *
It was a reasoned disenchantment
She had been a sun-dressed infant.
A pearl of charm
A bouquet tipped with tulips petalled
On this the warmest afternoon In June

It was the freshness placed aside
It was the turning of the tide*
We parted company that eve ~
She to her abode at Corry’ford
Me to my chagrin
A tent at Purdy’s Lane

Splenetic and wretched
With the thought
That it was she who ruled the past
The present
And my future –
Set to be deformed
And morphing into Ether.

* W Shakespeare
** C Dickens