The Smile of Impending Magic

Written in Hannah West’s living room last week …

I fill my silence with quiet fidgets:
there’s no rush but neither peace.
If there was someone else here at least
I could
listen to them not talk to me

There’s no charge in the atmosphere,
the smile of impending magic
is easy to miss.  But if we kiss
the tip of the wand we might

get caught up in a fairy tale tonight.

Cos the moon’s just as bright here
as in any land, and though the stars
don’t mean so much, they still can touch
the twinkle-twinkle behind the bars.

"I’d follow Him to the Moon!" I said,
and the Moon followed Him
It’s over there, behind the TV,
quietly glowing inside of me;
in the shadows.  Not talking or
trying to bash down
the door
But gently bringing power to an electric-lit room

with comfortable chairs and tasteful decor.


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