#555
Noise, glorious sea
of pulsating, pounding, waves,
sounds that bathe,
may the salts clean our
conscious,
rinsing and washing
all concern, all thought,
we rise, we fall,
tossing
and toiling ourselves,
a collected ocean, a
gentle storm of our own.
#556
The simple answers
are always so difficult to digest,
the alarm, the discipline,
the runners, the mat,
cooking, sleep, healthy friends,
healthy habits, so boring,
so helpful, so ideal w
#557
Somethings you can’t see,
sometimes they terrify me,
magnitude,
love,
music,
your words,
your breath,
the worlds unknown,
the colours unseen,
i worry,
what i may miss,
i stutter,
i pause,
i wait,
to see beyond my eyes,
to feel them,
to know.
#558
Oh, to those simple days,
free from worry and ache,
when time moved slow,
and the hours were yours
to think, to dream, to waltz,
afternoons between the pages,
evenings around the table,
the quiet hours, the rising Sun,
shooting stars, and mornings
where rain opened opportunities
rather than close doors and
marry difficulty with discomfort,
oh those, simple days, of which
i may miss, though would never trade.
#559
It’s the notes, the C’s, the G’s,
the wrap of warm chords,
the cloves, and cinnamon,
the salt, and sugar,
and whispers of vanilla,
blankets with more cushion,
company thick socks with Autumn thoughts,
as we walk towards December.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write