Tag: writerslife
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Between Greed and Meaning
a poem How much is enoughMaterial desiresThings and objects onlyGiven weight they cannot holdCoveting them as if the needCannot I fill it with them?Another tick in the accountMore trinkets to hoardConsuming all I canNever finding happinessLike I do around youAnd those I hold fast toMeaning within lifePriceless and cheapSince one cannot buy such thingsTold then…
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A River Blind
There is much to be done Stacks of endless work Painfully close to falling Toppling over to crush me
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Without End
There is much to be done Stacks of endless work Painfully close to falling Toppling over to crush me
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Clouded
One might be inclined to think they would easily detect when they need a rest. I thought I knew that of myself, how I should be easily capable of telling when I was getting to a point where it was best for me to take a breath. To rest.
