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,
and 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 here.
It’s over there, behind the TV,
and 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.