Back To The Hissing Lawns Poem by Paul Reed

It has taken me
Thirty five years to be free
To listen again to the melacholy droll
Slurping from life's porridge bowl
All that has happened in between
Including Queen;
Things I would rather not have happened
But have;
Now I listen to Joni and am not drawn in
By 'Don't interrupt the sorrow'
And the fear for tomorrow
Has passed;
Nostalgia did return like a wave up the shingle
But with different overtones now
And I am not going back
To the hissing of a summer lawn
Whence my misery was borne
With solitude and duty
No longer appalled by the beauty
Or in the trance
Of the 'Boho Dance'
My calendar no longer circled with compromise
I found a kingpin as did Edith
Reality, not a myth
My summer lawn at Ravensbourne
Became that at Hawthorne
And life moved on