The Silent Nun
A dull soothing drizzle tickles her skin.
Her scheduled smile failed to arrive.
Dotting the green sea, rhythm and sighs.
Bead after bead she prays:
" Oh Mother, Oh Father.
What shall I do?
My heart fails, the tears fall,
but I do so love you"
Belting chimes, trammels unmoved.
Cursing whipping winds paint the horizon.
Lips caressing each word.
Wading through memories, mist and confusion.
Paletted dress, she sits and says, amen.
Copyright © Omesh Toolsie | Year Posted 2007
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