If
written by: Alan Brayne
wouldn’t it be ripe,
a jolly jape indeed,
if,
after all those long, lonely nights
of staring up at the stars,
seeing faces
in the flames,
there was never a fire,
if
our wanderings
through the labyrinth
were something we just dreamed
and all the time
we were tucked up safely in bed,
if
we never found a seat
in this game of musical chairs
because God,
the joker in purple,
kept taking one away,
if
these endless distractions,
these timeless mysteries,
were the universe being naughty,
twirling its kaleidoscope
& having a giggle,
and if,
after all our frenzied searching,
the keys were in our back pocket
all along.
A retired teacher and lecturer from England now living in Malta. Recently self- published a book of poems, fiction and essays, Digging for Water. The author of three novels set in Indonesia: Jakarta Shadows, Kuta Bubbles, and Lombok Flames. Interests include art, film noir, the I Ching, philosophy, walking. Just recovered from working out how to set up his website.
Latest posts by Alan Brayne (see all)
- If - July 28, 2025
- Fireflies - April 2, 2025
- The Dreaming - January 5, 2025
