Slow Beat Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The
Rhythm
Slow
Beat
To
The
Tune
Slow
Beat
Slow
Beat
For
After
All
The
Day
Was
Drear
From
Dawn
That
Arose
Drear
In
Clouds
That
frowned
dry
was
the
breast
of
morning
figures
with
bent
heads
passed
here
and
there
through
the
atmosphere
the
thermos-flask
of
the
almighty
sound
was
rattled
quite
drear
was
the
noon
drear
clouds
of
afternoon
laziness
their
wayward
look
they
spent
the
morning
all in
all
had
thus
played
drear
as
hedgehogs
played
stringed
instruments
yet
slow
the
orchestra
of
hedgehogs
played
how
slow
how
drear
and
cold
as
the day's
fading
ushered
in
by
sunset
woes
violet
light
in
sunset
and
yet
the
\orchestra
Of
Hedgehogs
Sickly
Played
Though
It
Was
Sunset
Orange
Roar
Around
In
The
Immensity
To
An
Olden
Whispering
Reduced
And
Yet
The
Orchestra
Played
And
Sickly
Played
And
Then
Dusk
Came
The
Prince
The
Princely
Dusk
And
Slower
Played
Of
Hedgehogs
The
Orchestra
Slower
Slower
Pining
Arrow-eyes
Sadness
Guilt
Were
All
Of
Dusk
And
Of
The
Slow
Band
That
Of
Hedgehogs
Played
And
Fading
Fading
Thus
Dusk
Yielded
To
The
Night
As
Usual
But
More
Drear
More
Drear
And
Plain
Lackluster
For
The
Night
Had
Come
There
Was
An
Immense
Wave
Of
Electricity
There
Was
An
Immense
Lighting
Of
The
Immense
Stars
By
Night
On
His
Chariot
Golden
Drawn
By
Oxen
Gold
Dressed
Less
Drear
Less
Drear
Though
Played
All
Palsied-slow
Of
Hedgehogs
Yet
The
Orchestra
And
Day
To
Dark
Succumbed
The
Rope
Was
Cut
The
Thread
The
Curtain
Fell
Reign
Of
Subconscious
Drear
To
Horror
Turned
Begun
And
Sleeping
And
Dreaming
Yet
Still
Same
The
Background
Rhythm
Played
Still
The
Background
Of
Hedgehogs
Sad
The
Orchestra