Sometimes, it’s good to stop and while away
some time in nothing’s welcome hands and rest,
to idle like a river at the behest
of no one but the lazy flow, and play
in gentle eddies, splashing like a child.

These leisurely delights appear so mild,
belying the strength that lies beneath the surface,
accumulated over years of mirth,
as our habitual sabbath play gives guile
to stand despite the force of whim and toil.

This rhythmic life provides enriching soil,
the necessary nutrients for growth,
sink in your roots and deeply drink to clothe
yourselves with crowning leaves and trunk, a royal
oak. Come rest and leave behind the fray.

Reading Edith Wharton’s poem’ Elegy’, I thought I’d try and write something that used the same rhyming form. After another busy week, something on rest seemed appropriate.
(20.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jeffrey Hamilton on Unsplash