SpotsOfTime

By SpotsOfTime

Bean poles

A day of letters and mandatory training and watching the storm brewing out the window. Eventually the rolling thunder settled overhead and with much lightening it thundered down for ages until the road outside was a river.
Caution got the better of us again, so no swimming this evening but my friend called round with some much needed taller bean poles ... my runners have run away and the canes I had were too short.
Even she was a bit surprised to hear my neighbours on good form, as ever, even though I often speak of it ... no need for Corrie here.
After she left it was still dry but very humid so I decided I needed to travel faster than the speed of midge and set off for a short cycle up the hill.

how many moments must (amazing each
- e.e. cummings

how many moments must( amazing each
how many centuries )these more than eyes
restroll and stroll some never deepening beach

locked in foreverish time’s tide at poise

love alone understands: only for whom
i’ll keep my tryst until that tide shall turn;
and from all selfsubtracting hugely doom
treasures of reeking innocence are born.

Then, with not credible the anywhere
eclipsing of a spirit’s ignorance
by every wisdom knowledge fears to dare,

how the( myself ‘s own self who’s)child will dance!

and when he’s plucked such mysteries as men
do not conceive-let ocean grow again.

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