Sadness brimming, stunned by that.
so much lost, ‘til starts begun.
Waiting kills it, frost will bite
shivered breaking, long dark night.
Ponder, “It was Firey there!”
Nothing now. Seems Colours bare.
Waiting is the game that’s played
One more task, when Life’s delayed.
Not an ending. A moment’s pause.
Time for wake up, not “what was.”
Sewing patience is the trick,
Not so easy, but brick by brick,
What is worth it, just takes time.
Yet…one to chime.
Paula Antonello Moore, October 11, 2018.
Image: Not Yet by P.A. Moore.