Agreeing with a friend: A poem 

The copious music of the guitar you play 

is not the harmony to which I wish to sway 

A tongue thinks its glory is in the way it speaks 

You depend on my consensus, but silence leaks 

Conversation is like a city’s moving conurbation 

It swallows regions of discourse with no limitation 

But even a non-committal groove has its intention 

I am no chance wizard, but, at times, I take a vacation 

Disdain is a pain for the subject, so silence prevails 

Nothing is in vain, even as your seeking troth fails 

I have pledged to secure a course that does not damage 

I hide my convictions in a gesture of disguise’s umbrage 

My golden rule is not to waylay disposition by honesty 

The truth that matters, but is unvoiced, is no travesty 

I want it to strike and take situation like a wind without storm 

I won’t have you go abegging when it is time for my dawn