an older poem...

(i)

Lying still on Harpur's Hill

a setting sun it warms my face;

& while you're near its all so clear

you're not so out of reach.

(ii)

Later on you have gone

I wonder, did I say too much?

Words I said could have mislead

and are much clearer in a touch.

(chorus)

And if you listen hard

on a summer's night

you can hear the angels weep;

For the things in life

they longed to own

but knew they couldn't keep.

(iii)

The lost souls of a thousand gulls

echo across the beach.

I lie in fear, wish you were near

& not so out of reach.

(chorus)

And if you listen hard

on a summer's night

you can hear the angels weep;

For the things in life

they longed to own

but knew they couldn't keep.

And for the ones in life

they longed to hold

but knew they loved too deep.

-For Alan Whiting.

(c) Brent M Harpur, 1991 / 2011.

"There's a little magic in everything & then some loss to even things out." (Lou Reed)