Destiny


When pen dries
Light fades
Last rub of dry eyes
And the drawing of shades.

(Yet feel the blades.)

When keyboard is still
No words to tap
No ink for my quill
Or ideas to overlap.

(The sting of the slap.)

When life has no more
Inspiration
Nothing ahead or before,
Then ‘tis a proclamation …

(Maybe salvation.)

That ‘tis time to curl
Withdraw
Shelled alone as a pearl
Washed ashore.

(Perfection so poor.)

So lie in wait
For the time is near
Carved stone, ingrained fate
Welcome without fear.

(Memories, a fickle souvenir.)

Sometimes you outdo even your self, my friend, and those are the times I'm truly at a loss to describe your work. Brilliant - why aren't you appointed Poet to the Queen yet???

Give the Lady a call and offer your services!

Love and Hugs,

Alice