Life may mean anything to you, but
I refuse, to become a utility.
Come, let us face the death of time.
We were whisked away,
had taken a wrong turn,
and when battle lines were drawn,
the guns were not ready.
Dirty mirrors always complained of a bad weather.
Today I will go for a long journey,
to get the gifts of peacocks from green trees.
I want to listen to their grievances whole night.
Humanity stinks when infected hands
handle the peace. I splash the truth
on your face,
to see the sun clearly.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
Perhaps "..Quiet Storm" will help rekindle old flames buried and long forgotten or express the love so deeply locked inside of your soul longing to be released.
Regardless of where you may be found in love this beautiful masterpiece can be
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