Idle Hours

The Idle Hours have found me out once more,

preyed on my straying thoughts - in murk and mire

you've cast them down in chains; lured by your lyre

they pace across the starless moors and shore.

 

You candle – like the flame of time you glow -

absorbed, unflinching in your reaping stern -

time's wax your harvest - have I wax to burn

for Idle Hours? say are you friend of foe?

 

Once more these unembodied voices stir –

sighs from the depths, the legacy of years;

would I could - when their chorus drowns my ears -

could drink forgetfulness, sink in its blur.

 

Below waves break on these rocks exposed -

foul chaos of rocks, whose handiwork are you?

what deity such monstrous thing could hew?

while skies loom cold in majesty reposed.

 

The Idle Hours seize souls in limbo lost;

drawn to your misty banks they drink of death,

taste death in life – its chill and burning breath

casts round the edges of their minds grey frost.

 

The candle draws me back; away from me -

you Idle Hours - soft-summoned by this leisure,

weaving your web of half-indulgent pleasure -

away from me – deceiving luxury.

idle hours poem chris laverty

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Comments

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Jason Bayliss

Sun 10th Feb 2019 21:37

Beautiful lilting rhythm and such stirring words. Hypnotic.

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