Thursday, 13 September 2012

Waiting At The Window

There are days when I come up with something in my head and I decide to take the idea and write about it.  Saturday, 5 August 2006, I wrote this poem during my stay on the Perhentian Islands of Malaysia.  That was a time when a lot of what I wrote manifested itself in verse   This particular one is about waiting for the right time, waiting for the right circumstances, thinking that there is always enough time, always more time.  It follows on from my thoughts yesterday on the theme of waiting.

The Window
Claire sits and waits
"I will change", she says
Time passes
Like the cars passed the window
Each one a journey
To a different destination
And still she waits
Things will be different
Tomorrow, next week,
Next month, next year
Claire grows older
She does not realise it
But life is running
It never stops
It never sleeps 
Life goes ever on
And so she waits
I am still young she thinks
But the young look at her
And through their youthful eyes
They see an old woman
The years that once lay ahead
Now lay behind
Each one just like the next
Full of hope, of promise
But nothing realised
Claire has waited
Claire has sat her whole life
Looking out of the window
Dreaming and wondering
Poised for action
Taught and ready like the string of a bow
But the heart cannot take this
It can only wait so long
Like the string of the bow
Too much tensity and waiting
And eventually it will break
Nothing can last forever
No one can wait forever
Claire gets up to change
To start a new life
But her heart has grown old
Her legs no longer work
As they once did
When she could run
Out and across the fields
Spring sun on her face
But the winter is now here
And her heart long ago
Ceased its dreaming
Claire sits by the window
And wonders what might have been.

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