Give me an hour

Hold your cloak wide,

like a giant bird taking flight,

and let me catch the flare

of it’s silver pins, by moonlight caught,

like dust in an old cinema scene.

Stay the brash bright’s push

for my hand is stilled,

poised above untouched expectancy,

my passion trapped,

woven around a carousel’s turn

gaudy and banal, a masquerade

hiding true thought’s inertia.

Give me one more hour

to taste magic on my lips,

an hour more to hear the

faint footfall of a waking self,

and I will turn word into picture

I will give you verse.


8 thoughts on “GIVE ME AN HOUR

  1. ‘Poised above untouched expectancy’, love that line. Love everything about this, Nige ! Writer’s block doesn’t stand a chance, eventually we find our center and show up on the page. Turn word into picture you do, and you do so magnificently!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Your comment on creative inertia hooks me Nigel and I look forward to the article. Another excellent piece of poetry Nigel. I think it is the purpose of the poet to turn words into a canvas, or at least leave the reader with a lasting or overriding image and you do it so well.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A feeling I know well. That desire for just a little more time to do what has to be done, to enjoy what is there to be enjoyed, to seize the moment and carry it through to fruition. Your many images portray it so effectively in your verse, Nigel.

    Liked by 1 person

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