Excerpt for Songs from the Rainbow Girl by , available in its entirety at Smashwords











Songs

from the

Rainbow Girl



By

Dominic Jericho

































© Dominic Jericho 2018



This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.

The moral right of Dominic Jericho has been asserted.


First published in Great Britain 2018







This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.





















For Sophie



Who taught me that

Poetry is written in the heart,

And cannot ever be erased

No matter what life throws at you

















Songs

from the

Rainbow Girl











The Rainbough



That branch of chaste technokiller

Stalks me, like a solemn warcry

He sulks and sinks instilling me

With chastened pastels and distressed plates



The palette arcs across the sky

Skidaddling and skilleting the blue

Smiling its upside down face

Before light ceases and guillotine snips



Eye watches with watery weeps

Dark prisonhole deludes me while I

Yet the light sustains, and stains

My soul, like painted rain



I am its brief purpose

It's transient reason

The mutable bubble

My own, rainbough









Fourlawns



Heather pokes through the thinking grass

Soft; replete with Spring caress

Fingers of fortitude feeling the air

Trapped in earth the heart of there, there

With bother and withering thaws

Like jaws of ingested gender

Not seen for what the plot becomes

In later books will shock us all

But not me. Never me

The heather breathes









The Path Anon



The winter wind lashes

My poor eyes flash

With seaspray and salt



When I walk along the path

Father. Yes. I have a father

He watches me falter



I am training myself

It winds along the cliff edge

The fall is fatal



But I will never fall

I know that now

I will never fall



Along my path