Pause by R.S. Thomas

 'Rest a while,'
 says the muse,
 but I press on
 losing myself between
 the dictionary and the blank
 page. Wisdom advises,
 'Call ber bluff and
 she'll come cringing.'
 But I am all nerves,
 running vocabulary
 through my fingers, faster
 and faster. And somewhere
 before me is
 the great poem, wrapped
 in its stillness, that
 I fool myself into
 thinking I will overtake soon
 by putting on speed.
 
 
 by R. S. Thomas
 from Unpublished Poems 

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