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Christchurch bells toll out the quarter hours

Across the silence of the city night.

Two-fifteen, two-thirty, three o'clock,

I lie and wait, contented for the light

To cross the Liffey, climb Fishamble Street

Putting dawn's grey emptiness to flight.

Waiting is easy, waking brings back pain,

Recalling all the things I haven't done

And those I did so poorly I regret

The fact I tried, preferring to have won

At very little than fail at something which

Just puts me off before I have begun.

But the night has passed, the day is here,

Your love abides, so I've no need to fear.

Brian Hick November 2014

©copyright Sally Hick 19.11.25