Stealing Inspiration 
  
Sometimes I dream 
of the foghorn near the docks 
whistling like a forgotten friend 
in your letterbox 
walking home from work 
after I had left for the last time, 
  
Remember the ringing of the last tram 
freezing  in the air 
like a photograph 
before breathing too quickly 
ain’t you glad you walked away? 
  
Sometimes I dream of 
the chime of the clock 
which freezes at mid-day someday 
weeping under spires 
and underneath dock boats, 
  
Dreaming of my heart 
tied up in chains 
instead of knots  
before I unpicked the lock 
and walked away without regret 
  
stealing inspiration from the sunset.  

(A short poem from The End of Summer due for release on

14/10/16 (https://www.amazon.co.uk/End-Summer-N-Andy-ebook/dp/B01LY7YR9K/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1475915722&sr=1-2)