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CRAFTS OF AQUA

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JOURNAL # 41

loss is
the cohort of fear
amounting to little more than
self defeat
the negative
is but
a long dark shadow
itself
trailing after the light of the soul
a scary being
it can all too silently seem
sneaking up behind
the valiant tender heart
as it beats
prominent interruptions
jagged intrusions
upon rainy side porch Sundays
in clement weather
all 'Crafts Of Aqua'
bountiful harvests
abundantly flush in waves
often far too mournfully embraced
in the materialistic realm
and then so greedily displayed
all mere catch fire canaries pruned
grievous to enter the mine
of doubtless physical ruin
and yet even backwards they fly
dying amid all that nothing
that they believed was once
oh so terribly valuable
small particles of matter
all of it
every last shard..........
(Dec. 29, 2014 906am)

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I must be honest here. This poem gave me fits for days. I am not sure why. Perhaps I unknowingly was pounding on the closed door of creativity and thought I was creative when I was sick and really was not. I must have opened the draft of this poem 4 times and would sit there looking atit about 3/4ths through and nothing else would come. I even bemoaned my woe to my biggest fan on here and he assured me it would come, not to worry. Anyway, he was right so thank you dearest happy feet. Apparently your injection of assurance was the increment tithe needed to pay the poetic piper off. Enjoy if you will the work labored by the sweat of my poetic brow. laughs fondly. M.

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©29 December 2014 - 2:53pm — palewingedpoetess