when clouds
are small
patches of
these quilted
cumuli only
high pressure
from the
seven seas
if this
summer breeze
wilts with
a shower
then their
dusky hours
till dawn
sequestered thus
in alabaster

To you my thoughts do fly,
to carry these words
in the blink of an eye.
what words and thoughts you may ask,
well I hadn't thought of that when I began this task.
I only wish for you to know,
my feeling will remain the same
for it matters not how many time you go.

.
The blink of an eye would have missed it,
a brief glimpse of pure beauty
and then it was gone.
The passing of a gloriously sublime moment.
Darkness drew its curtain around
and it was forever vanished.
Folded away and filed eternal
into the vaults of history passed.
Catalogued and captured in an instant
from within the blink of an eye.

The afternoon sun lights the mountains,
reflecting the sheen of the forest
in a riot of greens and yellows.
Bathing the vista of sight in a scene of serenity.
The air, still and warm, echoes a kind of magick,
seeking to manifest.
An event approaching with certainty
yet waiting for the correct second in time.
And the day hangs
like a cloak on a winters morn,
unmoving and timeless.
Anticipation drips from the instant,
taking its ease at the imminent
moment of intensity.
A brief glimpse of pure beauty,
and the blink of an eye would have missed it.


© Pagan Paul (21/03/18)

Challenged a portrait
It didn’t blink

I loss, so that she can win.