S.B Elliott(young adult life)

Word to the floating and aspiring angels
who chose from my poetical window sill to whistle.
Oh how 14 darkness once covered any sign of
your true faces, now your features beseech me.
God nudged me and pushed me to it.
the pen at sixteen was half inspired as i chased
a young muse along an overgrown grapevine.
The devil smacked me tried to finish me off a seaside
cliff.
Twenty returning from the frozen south with every definition
of lonely youth well rehearsed.
Twenty two a new move, homeward frustration and through clouds no occassion to settle down, best friend smirks as Germany steals him.
 My colleague tweaks as a young father, The new drug P a methamphetamine consumes friends,
as I leave.
Twenty three Darwin as hotheaded as can be, with a bite, kakadu couldn´t contain.
My prose went to cairns and took young tanned tourist girls captive. Befuddled by a New zealander´s charm.
Twenty four! Germany loomed for me too with the same appetite.
It´s very beauty took place of a muse,I wrote like my pen was on fire!
The historical hammer banged new colours into my mind.
The pure chore of speaking their tongue became delicious.
And their oddly shaped humour put my shoulders to rest.
England begged me to share my flame.
Across the ditch saved from short tempered normans.
Into the eternal night I mushroomed, filling the theatre!
Alleyway me as full and lung devastating as rhyming gas.
Scotland awaited!
To the hills and rivers and strange winding driveways in my Germany dreams,
my very celtic blood fitted to scotland like a black dog to dusk.
In the woods I´d shiver, some ancient spirit hunting me down as if
I´d returned from centuries in hiding.
Running verse through languages and interpretions so rich!
Back through Deutschland one more time and Silvanna stole me
half knowing the consequences.
Prose bounced off early autumn lakes!
For a good few months she was my love and hate.
Her home in Brazil would become my tropical Kingdom
and here the seasons would get drunk and fall on each other
like palm trees in the storm winds.
Lightening would clean me and thunder would feed me.
Until today the verse you´re seeing has been dabbled and mixed up in this
mega sized portuguese colony.