Colin F. Jones

WAITING

I can but wait for I’m enslaved to you,
Though I loiter for a time that has no end,
Though Hell be this if ere you loving knew,
The years I lose are for a day with you to spend.
Yes, I can wait like a desert waits for rain,
Growing more arid with every merciless Sun,
That in the end each feeble sunburnt grain,
Has nothing left when the rains do finally come.
For want of damp the desert beds grow dry,
and tender buds develop heartless thorn,
And you the Sun up in the desert sky,
Will look upon a cactus not a corn…
and rivers flood, so long there’s been no rain…
and will be so dry, before it rains again.