my personal bliss (November 2005)

13 Apr

butterfly wings dusted for flight
gently brushing emotions
like cats’ whiskers

kittens and puppies
so free, but in want
of affection and milk

in search, they cry, they whine
a neighbourhood chorus
singing in one spirit

and so it is
as I enter my heart
the underwater beach

riding waves, floating, being
my body ripples
I am the ocean, the tides, the current

I am the healing blue
the balancing green
I am floating in your arms

you brought me here
desiring no more than this moment
gentle scent – my personal bliss

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