Saturday, November 21, 2009

Ponderings in Poetry

The bath slowly fills.
escape to quiet
Children abed.
Swirling, whirling
the bubble bursts.

Invitations uninvited
quiet smiles,
but no.
Why? Need not? not
Bigger needs are me
peace be to me

To take care of me
I must sit still with thee
Stare through the candles flame, and be
Perhaps then to see
How I can be free
and love myself at last with glee


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