From the cloister of my mind, I see it arbitrary hit my faithful shadow One step behind, shadow cows, sequestered Not to alarm me about the goblin Hitherto a fortnight since Hallow's Eve And still, I hear shells when my shadow flits I rack my brains long to determine why And what I find discombobulates me I have a poem in my lower-tier That failed to make it out at Hallow's time For lack of spunk, vacillation-- the sulks That I deemed it unfit, unworthy, lame But who made me judge, who made me jury? It came through me but belongs not to me I better send it out into the world And thus ease distressing my dear shadow Lest the muse departs never to return to light up the corridors of my mind *** © 2021 selmamartin.com
The whimsy in the poem should tell you everything.
So if you have a similar affliction and need to set things straight,
let’s pull our resources and send our Halloween poems out into the night.
And get our shadows to gambol about around us — without the sound of
shells– as they should.
Happy boo!
Setting free the one tardy poem that still lingers so. Almost a Fortnight since Hallow's Eve and the soul of this one little poem lumbers in the shadows of my every move. So, if you have one such poor soul that you failed to set gliding for Halloween, let’s put in the effort and release them to the poetry world. This way, they can find their way to where poems go, do what they do, and hopefully reincarnate into new poems through different poets. What say you? Do you have one such poem too? - Add it in the comments - Link back to this post Whatever you do, let's wish them adieu. *** Not in the mood for hip costumes my special ear- rings dance a jig Zoom in-- closeup checkout my lobes ghost earrings, boo! *** © 2021 selmamartin.com
Photo: See the earrings on that turkey?— Image by Prettysleepy from Pixabay
Thanks so much for indulging me with this one. I wish you miracles.
I’m a simple woman who dares to see the beauty in ordinary. I’d love to connect with you and like pen pals, I want something beautiful to blossom between us. Will you join me? Selma is my middle name. Its meaning—peaceful, complete, are euphoric affirmations I like to think of myself as having. They compliment the joy I feel when I write. I sincerely hope you decide to join me on my writing journey. I Wish You Miracles.
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This is lovely, Selma. I appreciate the message here. xoxo
Thanks, Jeff. Glad you read. Be well my friend. I bless you. xo
You’re always welcome, Selma. Is my pleaure. Thank you, my friend. Blessings to you. xoxo
So interested massage in poem
Thanks, Raj. Be well. xoxo
💜 💃🏼 👏
Nice one Selma, loving this ❣️
Thx, my precious. Stay lovely. I bless you and wish you miracles on this lovely Friday in November. xoxo
You’re welcome Selma! Thank you so much, I wish you miracles as well ❣️
Have a lovely and blessed day 🌸
Lovely message and feelings, dear Selma. ♥️Love you, xoxo.
Thanks. Love you too. xo
Most welcome, dear ❣️🤗
Great poem!
Thanks. Appreciate you reading. xoxo