Contented
it's not often the sun rises to clear blue skies
bringing smiles and vision to clouded eyes
to see a beginning and not to be begging
of what is, not was
blurred in a vision
I see past what I fear
the beauty, the wit
listening to whispers
suddenly appeared
the sun rises and I shine
alone in her presence
contented
in what I might find
Copyright © Ts Poetry | Year Posted 2022
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