Hollows Song

I call out from my 
hollow to say 
good night and

tickle your jolly till

you fall over yourself to

ask me many things 
more times and over

I call for all of this 
and more, 
to your hollow

chorus

I will not speak of love

I will not speak of sores

I will not speak of Paris

nor any other girls

but my hollow will resound

as a whisper at night

if you wish it so

tho you may not come through 
with the goods in the end

and i may be right to flee

all hope may seem hollow

but my call will not be

I fill your hollow up

tell you who it is I miss

not just the body of you but

the free man

the laughing man

the silly certain man and many things 

more times and over

so sure of himself

sure he’s under cover in that

hollow of his

and what I think of your freedom?

it's as a lonely plait

down the back of 
some girl’s dress

in the midsummer

too long ago can't recall

was it St Tropez where you lost it?

was it on the hill? in that cabin

as a boy?

i will not speak of that either

chorus

I will not speak of love

I will not speak of sores

I will not speak of Paris

nor any other girls

but my hollow will resound

as a whisper at night

if you wish it so

mid 8

now we have found our

secret hollows

many dreams are lost

at least the bells of Dame

still ring there

though not of our love

not even to ply from you 
your fears

nor ask whether you have

soared such heights since we last

threw the covers off

not of paris

nor any place you yearn for more

nor the bells of the Dame

as they ring out 
your name

oh you 
hollow 
hollow 
heart

who are you ringing for?

© 2005 Rebecca Rennie