Moment

There is that sweet moment of the day when silence seems to descend and time holds still and even the bustle of a packed café remains unnoticed as you let your mind wander, take a turn down a path, untrodden, overgrown with branches forming a canopy of green, and as you wander you begin to notice the magical figures that flitter between the leaves, darting from flower to flower to add a sparkle of colour, and just ahead you glimpse a white steed, a unicorn, drinking from a brook as an elf plays a lullaby on a panpipe, an it is at these moments you paint a scene, craft a character and place them, give them words to say and a task to do, a quest to strive after, to reach for like the words you seek to place on a page, a phrase of imagination, and then you pause for a moment, look around, and realise where you are, in that café, surrounded by people.

This came about when wondering what to write. It had been a while since I wrote something new as I had been spending my time editing a book of mine ready for submission so the creative muscle was rusty. And whilst sat there in the open with a coffee nearby, it reminded me of all those times when time stood still as I wrote, how it could take you places and how a good piece of writing could also take its reader places. So I wrote about that moment.

POEM: Tick

Tick
Tick Tick
Tick Tick Tick
Search for a word
The hunt for a gem
An unpolished stone will not do
A crown sparkling full of sun’s light
Nothing less will make this dull poem shine
So I investigate the thesaurus as time drifts by
Tick

This poem came about as I was thinking of the struggle to find the right word as the pressure of time beats down. That pressure can lead to the mind not working, of drawing a blank and grinding to a halt, unable to progress. Writing needs to be without pressure. I also wanted to play with a constraining form so decided to write a poem where each line has one more word as it progresses downwards. This is the result. What do you think?