poem: Grace...

Strength...
rolls off your tongue
in an effortless whisper
as eloquent mouths
are struck dumb
Sealed shut
by the beauty you wear.


Your soul cannot be paraphrased
or your essence pigeon-holed
For bottles were a myth,
genies were born free.

And so you dance in an open field
as liberation rests on your eyelashes
and Summer plaits itself into your hair

And so, you,
brimming with determination,
find the pot of gold
at the end of the rainbow
but take nothing -
realising that a lash
weighs a lot more

A lot more...


And so I, with nimble feet,
dance with you
in that open field
forever holding your unselfish hands
as we whiz round and round
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!
'til we're both dizzyyyyyyyy with mutual trust
collapsing in a giggly heap

...of true friendship.


©Copyright - the name poet.


[Grace - Latin origin meaning 'blessing'.]



OF INTEREST: A Child's Name Mug: Grace