Waiting for the lady never ends
there is a recipe of course, age
of reason bends the folds; lend
an ear, behold - you see a hole
in reasoning ‘its worth the wait’
in ‘if she’s here’ she’ll be a late
redaction in th’ fractal chain of
vaguely never-ending thought
& then she’s at the door again
a chiming-ringlets prophecy, a
consequence sublimely blest -
an absentee intrigue of baited
breath to intimate - whomever
you where waiting for is here
© 13 January 2015, I. D. Carswell
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