Stop prithee stop.

There is poetry in the rubble,

And hidden haunts in text.

There are voice voyages to be spoken.

And furlongs still to make.

There are rhythms between the brackets;

...subtle shifts to take.

Your breath to be captured...

Will you stop with me a while,

And while away the time?

There's a door that's there slamming,

And dog there that's barked.

There are dark clouds that threaten...

Stop.

Prithee

Stop.

While with me the while,

And while away the rain.

Will you take my hand?

I prithee.

I prithee.