Poem of the Day — Skilled Remission

Skilled Remission

Buried whole in cellophane

A bundle of loving cups clinking in jam jar succession

A twinkling of sound chimes exuberantly lifting, gliding in the ear

An inertia still felt since a choice; cut the funding

Messing with the emergence of chilled droplets

Grovelling to atmospheric bleeding leaders of sycophants

Desert storm blows on grey covered mountains

Pain filled scrubbing brush

Muscles screech in serenades of intervention

Partly due to wind whistling and whining in windows gap

A tangle of metal fence nails to stop well wishers from wishing well

Fishing for bargains and hiding in tents

Fire hoops all spinning

Plates cracked and filmed in pieces

I wreck the ball

I claim to be a fool

For reasons

Stand and fill part of a travelling circus

With mirth

Buried again in the wonder of it all
Copyright Patrick Turner-Lee 6th October 2015

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