SOUNDS OF KISSES, a poem about voices and long lost love

                              

                                                                        

                                                              SOUNDS OF KISSES

                                                           Thomas Hoskyns Leonard

            As I lie in my bed

            Hearing strange whisp'rings in my head,

            Funny sounds like the smacking of lips,

            Without e'er a break for quips,

            From the hallway to the spare room progress

            And into the living room digress.

            Is it a night owl feeling fit to howl,

            Or a vampire pouring blood onto a towel?

            Is it Jack with tardive dyskinesia come in from the cold?

            Or a dove and a partridge making ever so bold?

            My mind conjures up myself as a youth

            When I for Lucy did play couth;

            Is it us in the hall

            Just returned from the Cinderella ball?

            Are we once again in fond embrace

            As we our sad lives retrace?

            I stumble out of bed, and pull up my breeks;

            Judas wept! What is it which reeks?

            But when I walk through my bedroom door,

            There's nought on the floor;

            Merely a couple of clucks

            As down the stairwell they duck,

            Ne'er to be heard anymore.