A thousand lights are hanging in the Thames,
Garlands strewn by swirl and tide
Into a protoplasm of stars
Echoing reticence of frosty night;
Glitter so gladly and so bright.
I wish to touch their candied radiance,
They lift me like a trip,
Smiling, splashed fantasticated suns
Immune to miseries of wind and rain,
Shards of celebration drawn from sleep,
The cosmos of a reverie reflected
In the blood of a town too jaded to dream.
11-12 January 1997
Posted by gledwoodpoet
at 10:12 PM GMT
