|      CONFESSIONS of the FOOLISH                                                                                                                         Gone; never to return, they remain obscure  To those who wish to remember them.  They exist beyond the distant stars and vast wastes  For fear of detection and their demise.  Unable to converse with us - they drift;  Without power - without life; slowly -  Through the vast vaccum of space that encloses  Their spheres like iron manacles.  They left us life -  Now life has left them  For their secrets are revealing themselves to us, and  Are used without mercy against the seeds   They once sowed.  Oblique in the eyes of many -  Their secrets are now memories....antiquities long gone.  Through ignorance vast deserts are born, and  Like Jekyells...we become but Hydes,  For while we ignore the atoms explosive might  We destroy...never nurture...the beauties we sight.  Life ....a gift... we are bound by spirit to enjoy,  And those that seek to destroy....  Take it from those that once were brothers.  I myself, have destroyed a life..  My own!  I wish not to live but to die....  For she can no longer be mine.  Foolishly I repelled her affections...played on them did I,  Rather than be gracious and accepting...  I rejected each sweet furtive glance of eye.  Please take me back my beloved...let me return  As those who made us flee to the stars.  The stars are your eyes...  Honour this fool with their glance again.  Your arms are to me endless heaven....comfort me in them now.  Your love to me is sacred.....allow me to worship it....  You are my essence of life my love -  Let your love gently flavour me....  And forgive a mortal fool - his ignorance.      1973:    age  14          Footnote:                                             This poem was inspired by the documentary..                                                "Chariots of the Gods".  I suspect that there was more than an interest  in all things extraterrestrial happening in my life  at the time.   It is fortunate I think that the young  lady upon who this was based....is more fortunate  than she could possibly imagine....          |