This is a nothing day. Is God in waiting mode?
I roam around this empty house and there’s no-one in the road.
Sometime’s I stand and stare at neighbours moving round
And when they hurry here and there I wonder where they’re bound.
And do they notice me, a face behind the lace?
My curtains old and faded too, like me tired of life’s race.
The sun is gentler now as evening draws its blind
The shadows stretch to reach the light, though darkness will be kind.
The moon draws softer lines, while stars are twinkling eyes
Of angels dressed in party clothes now dancing through the skies.
I’ll watch the clouds float by then dream of youth’s own joys
When I could leap from tree to tree as nimbly as the boys.
Wyn Barratt. Oct 2012