It feels good
To be
All alone
And be lonely
Too
It feels good
To be
So tired, so bored
And cold
Again
Weather change
It feels good
To see grey clouds
Coming home
The expected Fall
It feels good too
Having
nothing to do
just couching here
yawning there
lounging
under blankets
It feels so good
to smell
the wet soil
not to hear a voice
It feels great
to be awake
be aware
of this bare
thinking.
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© Dulce
12 comments:
I love this. I can sense all that you convey here. I miss the fall weather so much. Please continue to enjoy it for me.
PG
I like it when the weather changes, which it has only barely begun to do here, but having lost at love again I am not on good terms with alone at the moment.
Still, as always, I enjoyed your poem, Dulce. :-)
Wonderful sharing of your joy.
I like this poem.
I feel such contentment when I read this poem.
Loved it, Dulce.
Thank you!
Margie:)
xx
Unless I have suffered some recent traumatic experience (loss of a lover, like 'Blossom--SO sorry and sad for you), I believe that it is a sign of good mental health to find happiness in solitude and I do NOT mean "isolation"--there is a difference --grin!
I forgot: LOVE your words, the way you communicate so well with so few of them. Just 'lovely'! (I know, that's a "girl" word--lovely.)
I am thinking, that it is good to feel this way sometimes too.
You say such well.
D-I never heard bare thinking described more eloquently. Mmmmm. ~rick
Oh, that sweet calm and laziness when the Autumn comes. I agree with everything... Even the cold is mild... There. Here, it is quite bone-breaking. I didn't know those moments of quietness ever since I arrived. I think I don't know how to stop and relax any more. Some day...
the changing of the seasons does feel good! we are kind-of in transition now.
i have tried to put your award on the side of my blog, but i can't seem to get it in, without erasing something. i am working on the situation, please be patient -- i'm a little brain dead right now. lol
great post!
smiles,
You do say it so beautifully, Dulce. I too love my solitary moments. I thrive on them.
lovely poem...
the turtle slipped silently below the water into the mud - the dream involved spring flowers, a log, and sunshine
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