Be kind tonight dear inky sky
please lend your blanket where we lie
Delight us with your whispered songs
instruct our dreams till daylight comes
Imagine we might wish to wake
and keep us safe for morning’s sake.
I’m getting back to a place I’ve been
where I’m not a cog in a crude machine
where much less time is spent in vain
with sycophants on the gravy train.
where knees are bent and backs are stretched
and arms are used to take and fetch
where hands of purpose mould my day
to fire a pot of stronger clay.