CRACKS
I am building a castle.
Upon years of toil
And sleepless nights, disturbed
By yearning dreams.
My castle will be fine,
Towering and resplendent,
By a sleeping lake.
Long years I spent
Laying the foundation.
And oftentimes I thought
It complete.
But cracks appeared,
And rolling years I spent
Filling the cracks.
Now, at last,
It is solid and firm.
And set upon mountain rock.
I eagerly build my walls,
Plan my rooms, and know
My castle will be a lasting
Pleasure to the eye.
A light to the eye
Of each traveller passing.
For I have filled the cracks,
Hardened the concrete,
And counted each brick.
And I know
My fortress of rest is complete.
Oops!
SPACE BETWEEN MINUTES
The clock on the wall,
That sober judge.
Calls people to follow
The march of his hands.
They follow their whims,
Fancies and thoughts.
In a dance of desire,
Folly and dreams.
They rush to achieve.
Blind, follow The Piper,
Chasing their rainbows
To empty gold pots.
The silence of ages,
Is found in the peace
Of space between minutes.
Stop now and catch it,
Before it dissolves.
A drifting soap bubble.
In space between minutes,
Lost treasures are held.
Whole, perfect and still.
Ursula O’Reilly lives in County Cavan, Ireland. She enjoys writing poetry and short stories. Other interests include painting, and walking her Jack Russel terrier, Buddy. Ursula has had poetry and fiction published online and in a number of magazines including Woman’s Way, Drumlin magazine (Ireland), and by Earlyworks Press.
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