Park Bench Battersea

Magic bench

If you sit there long enough,
time stands still and life glides by in slow motion.
It lets you gaze into the eyes of impossibility
and opens a dokodemo door which transports your dreams afar
and inseminate your imagination.

Here, perched cautiously on this mystical time loop
buoyed by the tranquillity of a brisk greying dusk,
you soon forget it is really only a dream.

If you sit for a long enough moment,
sparkling embers of sunlight caress your face and the magic happens.
You feel your heart’s wings flitter, levitate and take flight.
You learn to pretend each minute is infinite,
not scrutinised and rationed.
You ignore how quickly, quietly
time slips away before your eyes.

If you sit here long enough,
you understand the power of now and dread every ripple in time
as it whisks pass your gaze.
You watch your disoriented heart succumb.
But soon enough, time pinches your mind
and you recognise it is a dream.

If you sit long enough,
you are bewitched
either by an alluring evening sun or healthy wishful thinking.
Helpless, you will accept twilight’s seduction of your heart.
But as soon as deep emotions rise,
they are made to vanish like a retreating sunset.

If you still linger, longer,
the bench speaks to your soul.
You can see thoughts trip over their feet to find the best words to express themselves
without reopening purgatory’s door
where chances to carve memories
on the faces of tomorrow have been extinguished.

Still, if you are courageous
and can sit here long enough; real dreams can come true.
Panglossian desires thrive and glimpses of possible
prod you to inhale every last drop of time
before reality shape-shifts through the hourglass
and the sun sets forever
on this magic bench.

3 thoughts on “Magic bench”

  1. Nomatemba Tambo

    Dear Kevin, what a wonderful way to herald in summer. I’ll be sitting on my bench in Hyde Park, watching the world pass my by with fresh eyes birthed from this poem. Thank you!

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Discover more from Verbal Photography

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading