Anticipation
Soon, soon, but not quite yet
The intervening time drips quietly away
At its very slowest pace
But does not diminish
So nearly there, but not arrived
The nerves jingling and jangling
Tingling in the finger-ends
Allowing fear and worry
To gently grow inside
To build themselves
And set out their stall
Within my trembling limbs
The anticipation of what might be
Or which may never happen at all
Yet the not knowing is unbearable
And one always fears the worst
Wondering what may come
From around the next corner
Thinking and guessing
Hoping and dreading
Worrying and waiting
Bating uneasy breath
Dithering and shaking
The mind plays awful tricks
So that one cannot settle
Nor find a way to rest
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