It feels a touch like being on scales.
This inside good home in this outside pail.
On roller-skates, so often seems to sum it up,
the slipperiness-es angled with the bumps.
I'd like to keep my hedges all trimmed
to keep the 'light' from growing dim.
The arrow doesn't always land just so,
but if pointed in the direction, then let it go.
For on this side, we dimly see, and sometimes miss
but don't let this stop or hinder; I insist.
Some dilution may at times occur down here,
our faith may sometimes appear to look like fear.
But in your heart of hearts you'll always know
the difference will be in your innermost glow.
That sparkle that just won't stay quietly hid,
is a clue to the real you; on whose camp you bid.
In a list
A contest entry
- Sinner or Saint by Ken-Maverick.
650 points, ended September 22, 25 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Feel Free...
Comments
-
It does feel like being on scales sometimes doesnt it?
An interesting take
Thankyou for the entry
All the best
Ken
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