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In the Blink of an Eye

She watched him with

curiosity,

wondering when he would

muster the courage

to stand up and say

hello.

Just one little word,

was all she needed;

five letters, a simple –

 

“Hello.”

 

Startled, she

took a step back

and froze.

Was this really happening?

Was her waiting

finally over?

Before she could think,

before she could speak,

he was saying his name

and asking for hers.

What should she say?

What could she say?

Her voice had

already gone.

So all that escaped

her dry parchéd mouth,

was a raspy and

ugly old

“Hi.”

But of course that was not,

her actually name,

and her face flushed

furiously red.

She wanted no more

than to run out right then;

she wanted no more

than to die.

But die she did not,

and her voice did return,

and she managed to

tell him her name.

 

And from that moment on

they were never the same,

for everything had

changed.

True Beauty

Sometimes I’ll sit

in silence, and wonder

what life would be like

if everything were

perfect.

If everything went

according to plan,

if every plan

was perfectly done,

and if every person

was beautiful.

And sometimes

I wish it were so…

but then, I realize

how wrong

and tragic

and terrible

that would be.

Because life is not perfect.

Life is chaotic,

and messy,

and unpredictable,

and painful,

and tragic,

and lonely,

and yet it is so

very, very…

beautiful.

 

Beauty is not found

in perfection;

Beauty is found

in the flaws.

 

Beauty is not

a perfect smile;

it is the glowing warmth

of joy underneath.

Beauty is not

flawless skin;

it is the ageless sparkle

of life in your eyes.

Beauty is not

a perfect physique;

it is the depths of love that

pours out of your heart.

And beauty is not

great physical strength;

it is the spiritual strength to

admit that you’re weak.

 

We all have our own

self-perceived flaws,

but when we focus on those,

we then become blind

to the simple fact that

we have all been created

in His image;

in the image of the

most beautiful being

in existence.

And if He can love us

for who and what we are,

are not we then,

all of us,

beautiful?

Almost Missed It!

This just in!

I almost missed it.

I need to get better at

planning things out.

But such is the life

of a working student.

Rock Bottom

I had forgotten things

could be this way.

How one moment

life can be grand

and special

and fun

and glorious…

and then the next…

I had forgotten how

it all can change –

how at the

drop of a dime

time can stop

and everything can

change.

How great adventures

can end in disaster,

how daydreams

can turn into nightmares,

how harmless exploring

can get yourself lost –

and I am

most certainly

lost.

I am lost because

I knew it all.

I am lost because

I could not fall.

At least,

I thought

I knew it all,

and now

I know that

I can fall.

The only problem

now is that

I’m not able to

get up.

It’s depressing,

I know,

but such is

my lot.

I have fallen and I

cannot get up.

Harder Than it Looks

I never thought that
daily poetry
would be so hard
to write…

Triumph

I will not be intimidated by you.

I will not back down.

I will never give up.

You will

never

own

me.

You can try though.

You can try

to chain me up.

You can try

to break me down.

You can try

to smother me

with guilt

with fear,

with shame,

but hear

my words

as I tell you right now

that you

will never

ever

win.

For I’ve been made

free,

perfected by

Grace,

and none of you

hatred

  or malice

orthreats

or spite,

will ever prevail.

It’s a hopeless fight!

I have already won.

You’re sick reign of terror

has been made undone.

Through Him, I am

more than a

conqueror,

and I

have more than

conquered

you.

The Fall of the Eleventh

A long time ago, in a time that’s not ours,

lived a man untouched by minutes and hours;

a god who could drift through all time and space,

and ever so often he’d change out his face.

 

A Time Lord, he was – the last of his kind,

and he searched o’er the stars, hoping to find

something or someone – any person at all!

Just someone to hold him before his great fall.

 

For fell, he did, in the noblest of ways,

to save me and you and all of our days.

The Doctor – our saviour – that was his name;

a comfort to us, but to him a great shame.

 

A war to end wars and save all of time;

such was the crux of his greatest of crimes.

Murder and treason did not even begin

to describe the sheer weight of his ultimate sin.

 

Wounded and burdened, he fled for his life

in an ancient blue box (that some called his wife).

But broken and lonely he was deep inside,

because, he knew, he never could hide.

 

One day he’d pay for the sins of his past;

the unending journey would then end at last.

The end of The Doctor, who gave it his all,

was an end no one wanted; we all feared the fall.

 

We feared for our madman who wanted to live,

knowing that it was his life he must give.

That was the penance for what he had done;

his life for a history of violence unspun.

 

But he never did cower or back down and cry,

knowing full well it was his time to die.

He accepted his fate and gave us his hearts,

all while the universe ripped him apart.

 

But that’s what we needed; a lonely old friend

who would be with us all until the last end.

Or that’s what I’m told; that’s what history says

of a man with a bowtie and a really cool fez.

 

But I like to think that the Doctor survived,

that he’s watching us now, awake and alive.

For how could they catch as wily a fox

as the Raggedy Madman with his magic blue box?

 

No, no, my sweet, he is surely still there,

drifting through time and watching with care.

So remember, my darling, when you’re filled up with fear,

call on the Doctor; he will always be there.

No matter the time, or place – far or near –

the Doctor is watching; he will always be here.

Sanctuary

On the highest of floors

 in the tallest of towers,

He hunkered down

safe for the night.

And as he curled up,

he listened to them;

all the old stories

snoring out loud.

And as they were snoring,

he found himself drifting

asleep to the

sound of the rain.

A rain that was steadily

washing away

all of his doubt

and his fear

and his pain.

The library, you see,

is a magical place,

where stories and dreams

come alive.

Or that’s what his mum

had always told him,

which is why he was

hiding there now.

Something had  happened,

something not good,

something too

awful for words.

So he ran away

to the safest of places,

to get lost in the

depths of a dream.

For this was his home,

these were his books;

these were his

stories and friends.

And it mattered not

what the morrow might bring

for now he was

safe and sound.

No Time

I wish I could write

a little bit more, but I

need to go to work. :(

A Library Visit

“My friend, I hate to

bother again,

but I’m having a

bit of a problem.”

“Oh ho?”

“Yes, you see, I’m

writing a book –”

“A book!”

“A book,

yes indeed.”

“Splendid, old chap!

What’s it on, then?

What is the

genre of choice?”

“Well, that is the problem,

my kindest of sirs –

I seem to have

lost my voice!”

“Poppycock, man!

You’re being absurd –

you’re speaking to me

right now!”

“No, no, my friend,

I don’t mean this voice;

I mean the voice of my pen.

The muse of my mind

has left me for dead,

and the wells of my soul

have run dry!

Tirelessly have I tried to write,

but the words elude my page!”

“It sounds to me

like writer’s block.”

“Yes, that’s precisely it!

Curse upon curses,

I’ve hit a brick wall,

and now I cannot move!”

“Balderdash, man,

you’re making a scene!

You’ve just hit a bump

in the road.

Give it a rest

for a day – three or so –

and let your mind

refresh.”

“You think that’s all

I need to do?”

“Yes, good sir, I do.

The problem is that you have

worn out your mind in

thinking of what

next to write.

You cannot insist on

writing at all

when you don’t even know

where your words

have all fled!

My friend, you just

need to rest.”

“Really, my friend,

that’s all I need?

I simply need to rest?”

“If a doctor I were,

I would order it now,

and insist that you

do as you’re told.”

“Thank you, old chap,

for telling me so –

I feel much better now.”

“Anytime, my

worrisome friend.

Now, let us be off

for some tea.”