A Lost Endeavour

I found a scrap of paper today in an old file. On it was written a couple of verses. I used to write like this a lot. I’ve lost most of what I did apart from one or two things, including this one. I’m not sure why it stopped. Perhaps I thought it was terrible. Perhaps it is!

I’m not going to call it a poem, because I honestly don’t think it’s a poem. And I know next to nothing about poetry, so don’t feel qualified to say. It’s almost a song, though not entirely. But it was written to be spoken. I’m going to try recording it some time soon, and I’ll post the outcome here. In the mean time, I suggest you read the words out loud. Feel the sound of them as you say them, and don’t go too fast.

I called it: A brief protrusion of an outmoded notion.

Stood so still the air which was calm
seemed to whip between my palms.
Light lit light
and through the night,
the darkness of your eyes lost sight;
yet still the stillness wrapped, encased, went through you.

The déjà vu was déjà vu
and even that familiar too.
Sound heard sound
and glory crowned,
a halo somewhere else, they whispered by;
To you a shout, a cry to you to try.
To you a shout, a cry to you to try.
To you a shout, a cry to you to try.

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