Poem: Once Tales to Tell – 17/01/21

Written by myself, there were once great tales to tell,
now my tongue falls flat and limp,
it will not, I will not speak.

Sharing out of turn can be most expensive,
not financially but morally,
how do we strip the obligation from our hands,
cleanse our palms,
something wise and sent,
perfection slightly the same and honest?

I wonder through my conscience,
my moral set and case,
please do what is right,
a voice whispers to my eye,
or third eye’s hearing even more.

I will be the sweet princess,
like an out-of-season Christmas tree still cheering
the room,
my scent, will long linger,
rosemary, rosemary, rosemary.

© 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Stefan Cosma on Unsplash

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