Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Saturday, 3 March 2012
Paths cross
Under canvas
beneath trees
beside the river
Waiting
for the festival to begin
In the darkness
and the rain
All alone
waiting
for the call to arms
Escape to the story
of places lost
Of journeys to nowhere
waiting
for time to move along
Come back, won’t you
unzip the doorway
Look out at the daylight moon
waiting
for the dragonflies to dance
a poem from the collection Some Trickier Poems - Love with Conflicts - available as a kindle download or library item by clicking here