October 14, 2009


We drifted through the valley

In a state of disarray

Whilst all the birds above us

Were a mirage sent to warn.

Jove’s very own eagle

The portent of the sky

Warned us then of how

The high lands were ablaze.

But all the signs were mute

For you were on my arm and

We couldn’t see the heat-haze

We couldn’t see at all.

Still we couldn’t come to harm

And we couldn’t feel the flames

While swimming in the tarn

Whilst bathing in the lake.


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