Je m’appelle Lisa

I neither got to visit Versailles
Nor know wanderlust’s calm at Gare de Bruges
That glory was one beat too far

Moulin Rouge commanded some checklist, foreign to me
And we’d “miles to go”
Topless beaches on the Med, and all….
Damned dogmas

But Kings and Conductors still summon me
For they heard my name
Nightly, I tell them
You’ve known no such power
And masterpiece
Such God-Speed
As me

So this suitcase sits at my bedside
Packed
With ink-pen and parchment
Pinafores and peace
Decreeing
Whistling
Ready

Becoming Midnight

Spent yesterday contemplating clocks
As humans have, from age to age
Many days, these hands sweep effortlessly
The pain hidden by some gift of grace
Yesterday, oh, the seconds though
Surely they doubled in gravity
Looped back and proceeded to wait….

This business of time is rather an art
So thus, must be valued as such
Will I wait one more night
One more day’s tick-tock ruse
When it seems only correct to go
Godspeed today
Where I know my heart must be tomorrow