Locked-in syndrome

Already denied both youth and love

was denial  to include movement too

so the mind was to make real, memories lost 

and imagines made, where floating free, love was again

when Debussy touched the skin, as if ivories played

and warm wind flowed past as the finest silk

being woven in, to hair as gold as the wedding ring

and imagines made, where floating free, colour flowed again

where spinning round accompanied by smiling joy  

moving to the back of the mind, a whole universe like a fairground ride

colour speeding past with only moving air, as the accompanying sound

and recall made a time when hyperbole was a smile, not a frown

Recall the warmth of a boarder day, pale lemon yellow

and the sharpest grey on reflected sculpture balls

and recall made a time when hyperbole was:

the sky framed by a window in a dome

your silhouette against the picture of NO

how true this was to be 

and recall made a time when hyperbole was a frown

and the silky black of loving nights

poems and reading shared

your voice so tender and true

and recall made a time when hyperbole was all that was left of you

smells of basil, lemon grass, musk oil and linen pressed

cashmere warmed by a long walk, earth on your hands

strawberry juice, making the jam

words and ideas shared

so much culture found, horizons as wide as the desert sands

the universe so large, held in the palm of the hand

I recall us, I recall you.

Refer to: Aug 2020 – Colour coded