Friday, September 15, 2006

The Real Me (For my Poetry Thursday Poem)

I slip comfortably between the satin of my new life
Wearing another facade is normal for me
For it us underneath the real muse is seen
But like children peeking, searching
Who I am is still left to unfold

Like the rose blossoms wider, fuller
Each layer is a facet of me
Individually alone
Collectively breathtaking
Like a hidden gem to be excavated...

I'm still ensconced in my past.

And there the child smiles at me
Her hands closed gently
Light filters through the short fingers
Trapped inside the mind of a child
Is the real me.

Do you see?

2 comments:

Tammy Brierly said...

Beautiful poem :) The last sstanza was wonderful!

Suzie Ridler said...

How lovely Muse! I've been doing inner child work too and it's so healing. The poem is stunning as well, you are so talented.

I see you!

This is 47

In my acquired wisdom I've accepted: 1. That it's OK to admit I like girly things 2. That it's OK I didn't post this ON...