Morning in berwick

I was on my own, guitar picked it’s way, accompanied my song,

From where did it come from or into flow

your honey voice in its empty poem,

raelene kalveee

caught in hope, driving away

Daydreaming out my dreamscape, domme morrigan, you in your car,

Entering into the landscape,

Angel, laughing kookaburra, or fumes petrol and bitumen,

Form you principle of love, pleasure and pain

gift of poem