Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2013
Breeze works it's way
under the hairs on my skin
your touch limns
like a bit of current
to my bones.

It's time to decide
how to continue
for everyone to be
where they belong
with whom they belong.

We weave the tapestry of us.
Check in with your wisdom.
It might feel a bit foolish.
Fools we are.

It's time to for pride and joy to be
where it belongs
for the next turn of the wheel.
Let the eyes have it.

Hear me now in measured verse not.
Bread of Demeter's hearth leads you
to find your way to life's nectar
before I forget how to dance

The angry scent of a cast off woman
is an assault to the senses.

So hurry, love.
Yolanda Smith
Written by
Yolanda Smith  The house I grew up in
(The house I grew up in)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems