Alexander Averin

Wednesday 24 November 2010

Just a pic and a poem

 Maxfield Parrish 1870


Dark or light, the day is given;
her kindly presence surely follows night.
Sure, like rain or death and taxes,
she is granted to me with each dawn
and if I’m spared, must always quietly rise.
She is dressed in white this morn,
layered in time, folded in hours
stitched with hope and clothed in mystery
and I can play her as I wish.
I can stretch her out or hold her close, 
sing low and soft or seek out beauty in her dance,
measure out in hours or seconds all its spice,
savour all its sweetness in my moments,
rub in truth and knead delight,
speak a prayer with grace
or quietly weep,
spit her out and run away.

Cait O’Connor


Pamela Terry and Edward said...

This is just beautiful, Cait.
I am sitting here watching the sun come up just now.
Unusual for me, but lots of cooking to be done the day before Thanksgiving. Blessings to you!

Molly said...

Beautiful descriptive poem Cait

Margie’s daughter Leiny said...

Lovely reflective poem. Stay warm and cosy, winter chill is here. Hugs, Margie.

Toni aka irishlas said...

Just lovely.

Thanks for sharing.

Anil P said...

"Layered in time, folded in hours" is such beautiful sentiment.

CAMILLA said...

Another very beautiful Poem you have posted Cait, thank you so much for sharing with us.