These have been the days
These have been the days
of the cloudless skies,
intensely blue,
no sign of white;
at first a delight
but now I feel
unsettled by the empty space -
will it swallow my mind,
will the land dry up?
This was the week
when the gold bars fell
on a misty morn,
which Luck let me see;
they hung in the air
and they moved as I walked;
they were cast by the sun
and they sing in my thoughts.
This has been the time
of reflection great;
a cloth of mental calm
has sat in my head;
I wandered through life,
a silent ghost,
but I sensed life still.
This is a poem
to capture a strand
of a travelling train,
paused only in sleep,
that lives peaks and troughs;
I have tried to step back
from everyday tasks
and enjoy
an expression of my world.





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