James Smyth Poet Classicism

It Burns, Brightly

It burns
Brighter, fiercer, nuclear
With effulgent incandescence
But only when untended or 
denied the expected trajectory

For there is beauty in this 

A Glorious Thing indeed
The rarest of things truly
But to wilfully deny it? 

There is beauty in this

The question unanswered
The Troth not Plied
The step not taken
The tone: implicit

There is beauty in this

Why not the unfulfilled
The peak uncrossed? 
No less intrepid
The solemn solitary longing
For the possibilities
Unexplored... 

Yes, there is beauty in this

Untainted by banality
Never familiar enough to let fester the insouciance we know so well
No sordid, covert assignations and all that they entail

Oh there is beauty in this

freedom to plough the fallow furrow
In spite of interdiction the splendour grows each time connection recurs. 
This is the wonder! 

Yes, there is beauty in this 

Can this clock be run down until it's a thing out of time?
Of course, there is the possibility of regret -
The train not caught
The Nettle not grabbed -
But

There is beauty in this

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