journal of a writing man
Work in Progress
Flying
Hope, I have been told,
is a feathered creature
and that may be so. Certainly
it needs wings if it is to fly.
Fear, then, if this is so,
is likely to be a thing with scales,
shiver-cold, hiding in shadows,
fearful of meeting itself.
Take Hope, then, and fly with it. It's
better company than Fear. Remember,
though as you sing, high in free air,
white-feathered doves stand on scaly feet.
John Bailey
Lincolnshire, November 2004
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