The Sonnet...

Late night poetry

is the sound of my own whispering voice

reading by lamp light...

to peaceful, passionate, or even tragic images

I will mull over

while falling asleep

It is the feeling,

of hearing the Holy Spirit beside me-

I can almost tell what creative endeavor is coming next...

It is Sunday breakfast!

Lemons and sugar, rasp- and strawberries in the morn!

Over a pot of Earl Grey,

-a buttermilk pancake

-four babies playing

-smiles from my best friend

-gentle rain out of doors

-sweet thoughts of a blessed week gone by...

and always

the poetry

the sonnet

the spring

the songs

the friends

and Spirit

to my heart

to my mind.

Shell xx