Tag Archives: Poetry

Golden Routine

as if for the last time
her daily stroll she takes

to admire the beauty
speaking to her
which never gets old

unlike her own life
now crown’d with gray hair
and cheerful reflections
that sometimes lower her spirits

her heart blows a kiss
and smiles farewell
till the next tomorrow


inside Cauldron
of Reverie

some replay’d
in exact morsel
but briefly
at times
‘twixt months
e’en years

blown There
all Dreamers’ senses
in black and white
sometimes color

into feeling…

… Really There

till Sleep
thy breath
be lost

(Dreamcatcher craft by my neighbor, Etti)