I DO NOT live in Starbucks. Honestly. But I do sit and stare, there, a lot. And once ensconced I succumb to the siren song of pencil and paper.

And often I find my visual attention engaged by human nature. As in …

right now it’s raining outside and there’s fresh snow on the Takitumus. And despite encroaching antiquity I still have an eye for a pretty girl. Or two. Dozen. Long hair is a turn on, big batty eyelashes make me all warm and flustered while a proud erect carriage coupled with lissome grace overrides all social conditioning and quite suddenly I catch myself staring. I like to think that what once might have been labelled an optimist’s appraisal is now a connoisseur’s appreciation. Sue me.

The Spouse has once or twice somewhat primly advised me to wind my tongue back in and stop drooling all over the table; hell, even The Sage has commented. Fortunately for me when caught in the act of visual lock-on the types I stare at never seem to take umbrage, often I score a spontaneous smile in return (and my heart does back-flips). I guess I’m just some manner of closet romantic, but what kind of world would this be if we took social convention too seriously and never allowed ourselves to stare?


What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this is if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.


IT’S NOT ONLY pulchritude, you know. I used to take a coffee onto the upperdeck, lean against the guardrails (forbidden, but fun) and stare at the sea, or at the setting sun, or the horizon, or the phosphorescences exploding in the darkening deeps. With unfocussed gaze you can simultaneously track dozens of airborne fish as they as they burst out of the water and race away, dipping their tails in the surface and wagging to stay aloft.

ACTUALLY it’s amazing how very much of life we miss sometimes (too bloody often) by not taking the time to simply stand and stare.

A poorer life indeed~!



The poem is called ‘Leisure’ by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES




8 thoughts on “POEM OF THE DAY (3)

    1. Thank you~! (Awww, shucks … any genius …)

      Just popped over to yours and like what I’ve seen so far. Will be back …

    1. On occasions I’ve had to scarper the diem rather than carpe it. Once or twice there may not have been another diem … we live and learn. Carpe Diem!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s