Confronted by stares, Her pristine beauty disarms – Elegance prevails! © Meanderings 2015

Source: Real Power!!!

I love to read your poems in the night
And see each sentence frame a new born thought.
I often am in darkness not in light,
Like yours my memories are hardly caught.

The cat sits in patient joy upon her chair
The fire glows golden red ,I watch the smoke.
And wonder why most  older cats still stare
‘Their amber eyes a passionate warmth evoke

The washing gurgles in the old machine
When  all my  winter garments meet the soap.
Is this true life or am I but a dream?
In someone’s mind, perhaps, my image floats.

Nothing is so sure in life as is our death
Enjoy the alternations of your breath

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I’ve heard of intrepid, like you,

But trepid alone I don’t do.

It sounds  so conceited,

My tongue has got pleated

Trepidation feels like a left brain flu.

It depends on the context,I suppose.

Like weeing or  picking  one’s nose.

It depends who you’re  near

And on your fear.

Be trepid and keep your eyes close.

When shame has fallen on me like a curse

And scarlet  cheeks  then  decorate my face,

Of  manners   or  real evil , which is worse;

Which casts  a person  out from once right place?

To disappear from life is all I wish

To hide myself beneath a beggar’s cloak.

To eat  soup from a convent’s dish.

As in my own  familial haunts they joke.

Guilt can be expiated and redeemed

But shame  destroys the deepest source of self.

What helpful measures may now intervene,

Cover my shied face,  restore  my health?

Is it only I who see my plight?

Imagined  laughter hides me from daylight.