Sunday 8 August 2010

FREE TIME.

A breath of fresh air
For a lung full of smoke to suckle on

And a beer for a parched
Throat to be coated with;

A moment of tranquillity
And the ability
To run with it,
And summon the will
To be stiller;

A hustled heartbeat,
Sweetened by
Inaction.

These features
Are eked out
Of the doubting storms of the morning,
The swooning afternoons
And relieved evenings
Of day’s done deeds,

And I’m pleased
To have won its bliss
Again
In that proud and grounded way
That lays people down
Accomplished.

No comments:

Post a Comment