The Silent Trade
Today was Sibling lunch It’s the highlight of my week Laughing ‘bout our mum and dad How they hated every boyfriend that we had But then when she had left The ghost of who I was remained When did it all just slip away So I could be a Surrey Doris Day But poverty and talent Romantic though they appear to be Simply can’t compete When a dashing boy sweeps you off your feet I packed away my paints and softly sealed a part of me Fell so hard for the Green-belt's kind Became a mother and a wife, left that girl behind He’s given me a good life Of comfort, gifts and warmth Two great sons, now fully grown Moved away with children of their own Our nest is large and empty now our time is ours to spend He golfs now, since cardio’s warning, While I run St. Mark’s coffee morning. And his Country club friends Keep him busy the way work used to do I draw dreams, but hide them away They don’t quite fit our suburban display But late at night, as he snores I lie watching shadows on the wall Dreaming of motorbikes and festivals And escape from these velvet vestibules The perfect green avenue Noiselessly greets the silver dawn I’m trapped in this self built jail Of course he never came to post my bail Another lonely morning, Unhiding my book, my tea goes cold, I turn the page and start to draw Seascapes, skies and bikes… the spirit of my life before
21:15 6/14/26
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