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When the Magic Spell Is Broken

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When the magic spell is broken and the fog begins to lift. And the heat of the day breaks through and clarity is no longer adrift. The damp quickly dries and the light erases doubt. No longer in the comforting mist things are so clear they shout. It takes a while to exit that mist when its rose colored glasses you wear. And its grief you experience because even so you still care. So stop and smell the roses, feed the soul, sooth the heart. A new day has dawned and with it a new start. When the magic spell is broken. - Artimus (C) Susan Manley

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Ink Empress

Date: 9/8/2023 5:22:00 AM

So stop and smell the roses, i love that. Your rhymes are so captivating and the flow of this poem is so beautiful. And melodious. I absolutely loved reading this

Susan Manley
Date: 9/8/2023 8:48:00 AM

Thank you. Stop on back. I will be publishing more and writing a few new ones. I love your poem Starlit Symphony. Grief does live within us as does joy. We bottle it up and sip it like fine wine to recall that which was lost. For the joy that was there is wrapped in the sorrow of separation. And like two peas in a pod, it's hard to separate one from the other. Many of my pieces are philosophy in poetic form.