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Embroidered perfection.
On an old wooden seat overlooking the sea
She would sit every morning and set herself free,
In the sun’s reaching arms and its purified flame
Her images changed but the page stayed the same,
As each sentence was written with ambient grace
With the bright pen of sunrise on parchment of lace,
She remembered each time through her memories flow
How an image can change in the sunrise’s glow.

Her consciousness grew with each sun painted day
And her eyes coloured life in their own special way,
In the depths of her heart and the gold of her soul
She would dance and rejoice as she made herself whole,
Then her visions would carry her down to the shore
Where her dream steps would walk as so often before,
In those soft blowing sands while they whispered her name
As the gulls in the sky dressed in dazzling flame.

And then back to her seat on the edge of her dreams
As the sun’s dying needles had finished those seams
Of embroidered perfection and faultless display
That signalled the end of a wonderful day.
So she sat back contented, and savoured each verse
She felt married to beauty, for better or worse,
Then her nurse with her wheelchair came slowly along
And she took her charge home, with a smile and a song…

By 33whitby4654

© 2019 33whitby4654 (All rights reserved)


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