The Watcher

rage ‘gainst the silver dial

Preen and pose,

Compose yourself

Before the layer on layer of silver.

How fair you are! How fair!

But the silent burnished

Cynic returns your stare.

Dance before this

Surface circus of shadow and light.

Perfect reflection,

Refract, Refrain.

This ample watcher,

Manufactured brawn

Of sacred décor;

The unwinking god

Of all that you adore.

Yet why run

To this mechanical truth?

Time on time again,

A glance, a look;    

Run before this polished debt,

This confidante,

This impact antagonist.

And stuck in this unbiased rut 

You inwardly wait,

And rage ‘gainst the silver dial –

Its dread notch –


(c) S Dyer


About Stuart Dyer

Stuart Dyer, Christian Writer and Musician living in West Sussex, England. Works in the hope of producing the worthy novel or solo; giggles at Oliver Hardy, Peter Sellers and Spike Jones; admires Hudson Taylor, Dickens, Salinger, Bill Bailey and Neil Peart; listens from Wagner to Miles with lots of stops in between; dances to motown and aims to achieve balance in all things.
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