Caroline and Dreams
She wakes to scrub the walk with brine
as endless tales pile in her thoughts.
This, shy young maid named Caroline,
she fears labors will be her lot.
Reprieve, a pen is her best friend;
wearisome work, few hours to lend
for frivolous pursuits and cares.
Alone, flowing words wash her bare.
Late night, find her by candlelight.
She writes until her fingers bleed.
A writer born, her words alight
with blazing pen, an innate need.
She scrubs clothes in the stream each morn,
admiring roses, pricked by thorns.
The struggles she cannot foresee,
will one day make for great stories.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
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