Seldom Said

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Between

Between two endings
And two beginnings
The dying year pauses to reflect
And take one final breath

This year, even Winter
Seems to be taking stock
Temporarily loosening
Her grip of ice and snow

While the kingly ghosts of Christmas
Diligently wear out their welcome
Outstaying family, outlasting leftovers
Lingering on and on

Treasure them
And the precious gifts they bring:
Joys and sorrows
Hopes and fears

And above all: love
Memories of past love cherished
Present love enjoyed
And future love anticipated

Labels: christmas, poem, winter

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Snowy morning run

Fresh snow
Soft beneath my feet
Hushes my steps.
Still falling, it dances
Hovering on the breeze
Clinging to branches
Smothering stones
And drinking in the light
Draining the colour
From everything it touches.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Like fairies

I see them from the corner

Of my mind's impatient eye:
A host of glittering prizes

Full of promise and delight.

I could approach them crabwise,

Try to capture them by stealth,
But that would make them scatter,

Disappear without a trace

To leave me clutching feebly

At the tiny motes of light
That, whispering of wonders,

Are left glimm'ring in their wake.

Instead I'll sit here waiting,

Clinging fiercely to the hope
That one day I'll be granted

More: a glimpse of the sublime.

That, like a dainty fairy,

One will settle on my hand
And share with me its secrets,

Let my earthbound thoughts take flight.

Until then I'll watch their dance,

Enjoy my sense of wonder,
And toil with what rough tools I

Have on countless hopeful schemes.

Labels: poem

Saturday, December 04, 2010

Dedication

My muscles voice their protest, creaking into life,
As, pulling on my running shoes, I brave the cold.
Not many other hearty fools have ventured out
And those few largely dragged by dogs or grim resolve.

The world, a half-blank page, awaits some restless hand
To ink back all the details lost beneath the snow.
The lake is gone, its depths consumed by hungry ice,
But the river flows on darkly under brooding skies.

My legs are still complaining, but my head is clear,

The murky haze of sleep dispelled by cleansing cold,

And as I turn for home the dark clouds start to lift
To hail the sun's arrival with a dainty blush.

Labels: poem, running, winter

Inconsequential thoughts rarely worth muttering out loud

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