Old Flowers by Strider Marcus Jones

old flowers 

bloom in the after hours 

trailing scent- 

and their words still drawn 

fill the night and dawn 

the way they went. 

new to ours, 

coffee shops and church clock towers 

remember those times spent 

in warm 

touchings born 

out of movement. 

tempting rain showers 

in silent bane's empty hours 

shuffle and lament- 

the thoughts swarm 

and mind-bed warm 

coupling of consent. 

Strider Marcus Jones is a poet, law graduate and ex civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry reveal a maverick playing his saxophone in warm solitude. 

https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/