journal of a writing man
Work in Progress
"Calmness is a gift"
for Cathy, who's inspired me more often than she'll ever know
In the still hours
when mice don clogs
and dance random lines
along the shaded wainscot,
when clocks tick, tick, stumble, tock,
and you wonder if the stumble is yours
or if Time is taking advantage of the quiet
to make the most of its time,
when the wind whispers in the pine trees
when foxes scream and owls savage the night,
when boogey men rise and scratch at the walls
and web-winged bats snicker snacks from the dark,
when you lie awake, too full of the day, too fretful in the night,
that's when you value your calmness, as the long hours terror away.
John Bailey
Somerset, October 2002
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