Idle Hours

The Idle Hours have found me out once more,

preyed on my straying thoughts - to 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 as the gleaner stern -

time's wax its cull; say, 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 -

cold snarl of rocks - what hands could fashion you -

what deity such monstrous chaos hew -

while skies remain in majesty reposed?

 

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 – you perilous 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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