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May 2013 · 545
Defence
Ida Werrett May 2013
There is a sadness at times
that lurks around every corner,
swims the moat of my outward defences,
climbs the tower of optimism
and seeps into the walls
of my stalwart fortress.
It is then that I must take up arms
and fight
to defend the citadel of my convictions
and secure my treasury of hope.

                                          Ida Werrett
Mar 2012 · 652
Yesterdays
Ida Werrett Mar 2012
Yesterdays...
reverberate
throughout the years
like an echo,
somewhat hollow
and far away.
And yet they dance
in the moonlight of life
to a song called Memory.
    
               Ida Werrett
Feb 2012 · 795
Waiting for the School Bus
Ida Werrett Feb 2012
Thinking Back
I am waiting for the school bus
in front of Mason's store.
It is raining again,
like yesterday
and the day before.
No thunder or lightening,
just quiet, gentle rain
soaking my mind
with watercolor memories;
impressions undefined
of soft rain and umbrellas
and the dense , damp forest
viewed through a veil of time.

                                 Ida Werrett
Feb 2012 · 605
Soon...
Ida Werrett Feb 2012
There's an idea
tiptoeing around in my mind.
A verse that is forming
one line at a time.
It will not be hurried,
but not to worry.
Soon it will appear
on my paper
by way of my pen.
Soon...
I just don't know when.

                Ida Werrett
Dec 2011 · 671
The Holy Grail
Ida Werrett Dec 2011
Brave Knights have searched in vain
for this greatest prize.
Suffered many a perilous journey
when they had to but lift their eyes
and gaze upon the seed of God's,
sewn and nurtured on this earth
to be given flower...
through mortal birth.

                                     Ida Werrett
Dec 2011 · 663
The Tear
Ida Werrett Dec 2011
Perhaps our world
is a small molecule
in a tear
on the eyelash
of one who weeps for us.

                      Ida Werrett
Dec 2011 · 1.1k
Forgetting
Ida Werrett Dec 2011
The past just sits there
in the corner of forgetting
and hums an old song.
He swings his foot
and taps his fingers.
He tries to pretend
that he is not fading away.
I have the pleasure
of ignoring him
in a rather sensible fashion,
having been down that road before.

                   Ida Werrett

— The End —