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Unread 07-19-2017, 08:56 AM
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Ann Drysdale Ann Drysdale is offline
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Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: Old South Wales (UK)
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"Ann's puzzling poem"? Oh. Jim, I'm sorry. I always forget that I am from an earlier age than many a Spherian. You may never have stood on a bridge while a steam train went underneath and played the game of screaming while it did. If you ran out of breath before the last carriage passed through, the train won. Blame it on a solitary childhood in a bygone era. (I did a gender-swap for this one because I was, in my heart, a boy in those days.)

Perhaps this one, then? A more contemporary joy.

A Good Day


I wake with an untroubled mind, rise easy and slow;
the clock on the shelf by my ear says, “well done, well done”.
I-spy with my little eyes for they are not stuck shut.
Breath comes in through my nose without sticking or whistling
and trickles out of my mouth with no hint of a wheeze.
Spine makes itself straight; unrolls with no fold at the foot.
Knees bend to their morning tasks with no trace of complaint.
Yesterday’s shoes will be perfect for today’s weather
and I am able to make quite tight fists with both hands.
But I stop short on the edge of an Alleluia,
afraid to praise. This is not lately the way with days.
This one has managed to sneak in under the radar
and if I grass, someone might ask me to give it back.


(Can anyone spot the form...?)
.

Last edited by Ann Drysdale; 07-19-2017 at 09:03 AM. Reason: added a question, just for fun.
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