Not a Sarah Post...

Any connection between reality and this little ditty is purely fantastical. It’s the progeny of large scotches, wee small hours, a fondness for Bob Dylan and an overly indulgent imagination. So please don’t take it seriously; I’m just bored (and a little something else, but you wouldn’t want to know.)

Is there something afoot,

Mistress Bella la Belle?

Are you going away in the morning?

Will you leave the home shore

Without saying farewell

When the dew is still sweet at the dawning?

While I’m settled in sleep

And the sun tolls a knell,

Will I heed not the want of a warning?

And whene’er you return

Will the spectre retell

Of the day you set sail in the morning?

Needs a tune, really. Maybe I'll dust off the guitar later.