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Love Holds Dear

This is an older piece – recently re-worked. I still like it, and found it worth posting.

Love Holds Dear

Love.
Curled in a fever,
Wrapped in a blanket made of stone;
Made to look like art,
Made to look organic.

Nature coils an invitation.

Inherit.
Own.

Autumn has it’s own way
of defining the moment;
In leaves, in grass,
In mornings that could never disgrace,
Never shame.

I hold the memory like a well worn scarf;
Inhale the familiar scents.
Wonder at how I could keep
Something so old,
so tattered, around for so long.

I keep the stone the same way,
But the pond is it’s reminder of family.

I splash,
and love holds dear the pebbles.

About Trish Noble

Trish Noble. Dreamer. Writer. Artist. Thinker. Ponderer. Observer. Spouter of Opinions.

One comment

  1. Beautiful Trish. Thanks for sharing.

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