Patience Lies Sleeping. A boxed poem inspired by an old railway line and the churchyard at its end.

At dawn one can only guess

at universal secrets,

magical mysteries, a

seasoned grace and all that

embodies spirit of place.

and patience lies sleeping

lies sleeping, lies sleeping

patience lies sleeping at

the end of the track.

Patience lies sleeping

lies sleeping , lies sleeping

Patience lies sleeping with

with jack at her back.

not for her the kissing gates

clandestine tete a tetes

nor for her the curlews cry

not for her the blue, grey sky

with three swans streaming.

Not for her the Bluebell wood

waiting to exclaim, not for her

the stichwort, garlic, celandine

and thyme and

burns flowing without name.

For patience lies sleeping

lies sleeping,

Patience lies sleeping

at the end of the track

a dove at her head a

wren on her breast

Patience lies sleeping

At rest

At rest.

(c) Lee bruce.