Baths are a curious thing,
That I would lie in one, serene,
For hours —
The water, once clean
Washes off all that is obscene
Then I wrap myself up in towels, till dry.
It’s a place where I dream; sleep and day-dream,
Of far-off spaces, I would see
poetry inspired.
Also, a tranquil, healing pool where I grieve,
Catching all my tears for reprieve;
Then I leave relieved, floating —
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
Baths are a curious thing,
That I would lie in one, serene,
For hours —
The water, once clean
Washes off all that is obscene
Then I wrap myself up in towels, till dry.
It’s a place where I dream; sleep and day-dream,
Of far-off spaces, I would see
poetry inspired.
Also, a tranquil, healing pool where I grieve,
Catching all my tears for reprieve;
Then I leave relieved, floating —
Bath is also a town/city in the UK. Baths are a fluid cocoon from the world and my happy place. When writing this, I did not envisage a series of poems to follow on baths, please check them out too. You never know where inspiration arrives from!
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