No Jacket Required
Cannot
draw, paint, sculpt,
create symphonies, move to
mirth or action,
enthrall,
sing with the voice of angels
(or the sublime Ms Fitzgerald),
cure with digitalis,
build to withstand
the aftershocks of a billion
humans,
yet,
can,
in an instant,
locate true north
of a moral compass,
see the colour of a
beating heart
Woohoo – brilliant!
Thanks
I envy you
The greatest skill of all…
Ah, Kate – the way we see ourselves is not necessarily the reality, is it?
I’m a little bit too cynical in these matters, to my detriment
Hi – this is Chloe from “Writing Days-Happy Days” with my new look blog. I’d love for you to pop over and take a quick look at “Blossom Dreams” if you can – possibly even subscribe
If I’m on your Blogroll, please can you change your link from Writing Days to Blossom Dreams? http://blossomdreams.wordpress.com/
Many thanks and have a great day!!
Chloe xx
Thanks, Chloe – looking forward to spending some time there.
Amen! All that counts …
It’s always interesting to see what resonates, Jamie
thanks for the comment
This poem is the cat’s meow. Your words fly straight to the beating heart.
I’m glad you enjoyed this one, Monica (and the ‘cat’s meow’ – love that
stunning…
well done.
join our poetry potluck if you wish.
Thanks, Jingle
I couldn’t locate true north of anything
ha, ha, nursemyra – sometimes it’s better not to know where you’re going…
Your poetry is delightful. It sings with the perfect view of life.
Thank you, Thomas – it’s most welcoming to get a more positive take than I usually do on my take on life