THURSDAY 31st DECEMBER 2009.

So I sleep and awake in the same bed my father left
On the last day of his life,
Though I’m safe in the knowledge that his legacy will continue
Long after I have shed my own skin;

For here in my arms is the future and there goes the past,
Trapped in its own little snow globe,
And captured on these pages for all concerned to
Turn to when they wish to know the truth
Of it from a more reliable source,
A better sired horse.

Though be careful what you wish for as it may just find you
Dismal beneath a fallen star;
Arms outstretched to catch the dust of love’s labour
When all that’s available is lust.

But I’m determined to give this the worth it deserves
Whilst trying not to revert to type;
I’m just writing, transmitting, channeling information
Instantly; funneling all the feelings of
Four seasons into one reasonable,
Readable volume,

So that when everything makes to collapse I can relax
And track my way clearly through the ruins,
For even though people may scamper and panic there’s
No need to bleed when events shred.

This has been my year,
And now it’s yours...