Time to Watch A Rock Grow

Dashing, chasing, rushing about

Mental gymnastics, crushing doubt

Grabbing a bite, snatching some zzzs

Too much to do to be at ease

 

Never noticing colourful flowers

Or the passing of daylight hours

Missing the trill of a single song-bird

Passing scenes with beauty blurred

 

There has to be another way

Finding some pleasure in each day

By taking time, beginning to slow

Patiently watching a small rock grow

The Write Words

Could I find a better way to say just what I mean?

I know I need the clearest words to set the ideal scene

Yet, for written words to state some fundamental truth

They must not fail immediately, because they are uncouth

 

But, like a thought that flashes by and cannot be recalled

Writers’ block denies my wants and literacy is stalled

Whilst others pen the perfect phrase, to capture and delight

I must sit with becalmed hands at my keyboard in the night