LOVE WINS
Brought into the space
Where tired had a place
She viewed the wooden bench
Before she could ponder
Wherever the mind would wonder
Movement halted her within the clinch
...and she beheld
Blood and water poured
Upon the wooden vessel
Where splinters pierced flesh
The weight of liquid gold
Too heavy for matter
Crushed and was no more
...response processing
It was a yellow bench
But seemed to be dull with age
It looked like a box
With treasures...stuff...she couldn't gauge
"Jesus what was that
It feels like I sat there many times
Trying to work out
Things I couldn't....mind
...box of behaviors....that was my box of behaviors
.........wasted by our broken heart....no longer needed
...................we have found JOY........."
His mercy is new every morning
Filled with life in the IS
Response is authentic
Without the familiar fizz.........
of SPRITE
Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-05-2024
Note: Please look up the origin of "Sprite" and get a bang in the end ;)
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
