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The forgiveness of sin with just one impish grin
and it suddenly stopped raining in Leeds,
as I learn to forget a most beautiful debt,
in a pub, in Dublin, in spring.

The Sun slowly sinks as the populus drinks
My glass raised, I join in the throng.
With a smile on my face, I struggle to keep pace
in a pub, in Dublin, in spring.

A heart can forget the past’s weightier debt
with a few beers to show how its done.
I’ll return to the bus whilst still wishing I was
in a pub, in Dublin, in spring.

If memory serves, I awoke with the birds
and a head both dazed and confused.
My memory lost for a casual cost
in a pub, in Dublin, in spring.

A moment of stillness and calm,
so welcome a companion
sailing in on the last breathe of a warm August afternoon
through the half-open kitchen window.

Down below
the grass boasts green at an otherwise indifferent skyline,
celebrating recent rain with a symphony of drainpipes.

Daylight takes its final curtain call and heads west.

So the light left
and with it the evenings inspiration,
following my cathartic contentment out of the window,
down the garden path,
and into the shadowy streets below.

Just in time for darkness
my pen squeezed out one last poem,
devoid of structure or rhyme,
the contents sketchy at best.