“… Like always, it did something to him, something he could never quite figure out. It seemed to put one part of him to sleep and wake another part up, the part that sent ideas bubbling up and out.”

– Janet S. Anderson, The Last Treasure

Sway it goes

In clutter and chaos

In madness and misery

Its quieted calm.


Sway it drapes

Protector prime

Shadowy sheath

Lighted love.


Sway it reaches

High to heaven

Skyward sailing

Guardian great.


Sway it swishes 

All around me

Wrapped, enclosing 

Holding me, still.


Paula Antonello Moore, Poetry. Copyright: Tuesday, May 23, 2017.

Image: Swish by P.A. Moore.