Always inconstant...

By bikeyPete

Poetry of the moment

From warm and dreamy rest, while an angel slept beside me, to the still and perfect air of tranquil fenland. Almost imperceptibly moving stars sparkled and danced in the corners of my eyes, the cold black sky devoid of any warmth. The street lamps made crystal lights of the condensation on my windscreen and I was loathed to destroy such perfect beauty. Dark silhouettes loomed by the road, phantoms and monsters creeping, encroaching, laying pitch shadows across the road.

In fluorescent armour, with lights burning into the dark, I peddled to the top of castle mount. With expectant breath and anxious heart I dashed to the viewpoint. Across the silent and statue stillness of sleeping Cambridge the sun broke, with almost palpable form, light burst atop tree and house alike. Birds heralded the coming warmth with songs of delight and eagerness. I closed my eyes and breathed out, plumes of diamond mist filled the chilled atmosphere. Winter, with her cruel beauty waited in the dark corners, where, her erstwhile lover Jack Frost had pinched harsh whiteness on unsuspecting grass ends.

Down to the bridges of great learning and to stare at the icy still waters. Ducks, reluctant to venture forth, huddled on the banks while Jack did his best to pinch their feet. The glow of the sun crept into the heavens. Here comes the day. The sound of human traffic rises. A jogger runs by and smiles, I smile back. Here, amongst the the secret moments, the quiet, the solitude, there is magic....wonder.

To the coffee shop...then to the climbing wall...then to a long day at work...

Then to home and the beauty of my lovely lady....hah...such a life is mine!

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