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When the Magic Spell Is Broken
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
Copyright ©
Susan Manley
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