Lycée Dreaming

Oh fie,
‘tis a headless ask gone
wanting, making rhyme
of an answering – hunting
for signs in an eyeless dream.
Why put this curse on me?
Why is it I who seeks?

Wherefore you who
are silenced in words;
in double sens one
must agonise and still yet
choose the right meaning.
While silence is complete
making sense is a dying.

I am old, I am
not trying to reach.
My comfort is in teaching
lies the truth, taking the
quick edge in my
hands, turning the
blade inwards.

Yes, there is room
in verse for untruths,
tho’ tell these at your peril
– it will undo of whom you
are; it is seductive evil,
beguiling. And, yes,
it may still rhyme.
© I.D. Carswell 2007