The lost epilogist

The arrival of a destiny

pierced from the dreams of a paradise

My new friend of happiness

Smeared from the fruit of peppiness

That hand two round legs

Which rolled me to the streets of town heggs

He was red in colour

Dipped with the cranberry odour

That turned the faces

Towards those elegant bell he plays

With those legs we rolled

Through the hills so cold

To reach the tip above

Where we waited for the rainbow

Until the smoggy eve

Where I saw if for last so cleave

Which was stolen far away

Beyond the nights so gay

I still wander in the street

Watching the kids so bright,

Lost in the memory of the odour.