The Architect

A poem about what happens behind the scenes with an architect…

Sitting, I click, plotting new lines My surroundings are vague, blurry
They sit on the margin of my mind
I need another shot of expresso
Shapes and colours are all I see
Shaped spaces to fill my building’s voids

I sit supreme as ultimate ruler in my urban space
Sleep attacks me, trying to stop me
The dawn’s light, fills my room its pale gold beauty brings warmth to my face Dawn yet another new beginning for the city, I feel the history flow

The history I want to be a part of
I look outside and smile
Timber and steel filled with glass
Light and dark shadows on pavement, I designed Deadline almost missed, almost passed
I have to meet the client, they have a budget to meet, It is almost time to present

I can resent later
Once again the late, ‘late’ night’s work is done

The Architect Poem