Saturday, 3 December 2011

there was no precise point of commencement

there was no precise point of commencement only the quiet rumbling of beginnings softly tearing the seams stitch by singular stitch. a living thread dreamed to life with instinctual inclinations towards the sacred act of acknowlegement in the preservation of personal truth.

8 comments:

demie said...

good morning my beautiful scottish poet...

i read in awe

Anonymous said...

really love thiS one! you Have A Degree of sensitivity that most people don't have...you should write a book.

demie said...

i thought i left a comment here yesterday...
and i believe it to be a good one...

now i cat come with anything else than your poems make me think. i mean i read them and the go on with my day, and suddenly the words come back and hunt me somehow...
" the sacred act of acknowlegement in the preservation of personal truth"

i like that

Anonymous said...

the crack of the mint echoes through the auditorium, alerting and bemusing

Anne Immelé said...

toujours heureuse de vous lire et de vous suivre... chère C.

Anne Immelé said...

Chère C.
C'est un plaisir de vous lire, jour, après jours, nuages après nuages...

Timo said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
ellom said...

L o v e this.