‘This is Mister Blake, my dear, <br />he sees visions..’ <br /> <br />and he looked down at me, this man <br />who saw, what did that mean, <br />saw visions? His eyes were just so blue, <br />so blue, that they were limitless <br />and I flew up and into them <br />like a sky and wings <br /> <br />and the voices sang forever <br />as if there were no repetition <br />and angels with blue eyes <br />looked at me out of everywhere <br />seeing every thing <br /> <br />and Mister Blake the poet raised his hat to me, <br />smiled the gift of always, <br />and walked on his way <br />down the Strand <br />as if one and all things <br />had never parted company.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/meeting-mister-blake-the-poet-in-the-strand/
