Celtic Leather Journal
……………………………………………………………………..
Now here it comes…
Another end,
A mere few pages
Remaining… to expose
My soul…
With confessions written,
In Celtic leather bound journal.
It’s here in safety
I tell all,
With shield of poetry…
So some call it…
Such an honor
When those most
Talented…
Define my writing as such.
The smell of leather binding
Brings back the day of
Acquisition…
When love filled each blank
Page…long before I wrote
A single word.
First time I cracked
The binding…with
Number two
Pencil in hand…
My mind went blank
In hesitation…as if
I were about to soil,
It’s pure white paper.
I’ve felt this anxiety before…
Counting remaining pages,
In fear I’d stroke my pencil
Across the last page…
Still blank,
Before refills ordered
Arrived in time to allow
Me more confessions.
A daily ritual it seems…
That keeps me centered,
Creating a hole
In the bottom of my heart…
Through which I pour my feelings,
Allowing them to escape…
Some disguised…
Some bold and tacky,
Lustful and revealing…
Others quiet while
Assuming…all who may
Read one day…
Will understand me better.
A third edition
Of heart’s confessions
You might say,
It’d be the fourth…
If not placed on a shelf…
While heart struggled
To find its way…
To you…or was it
Around you ?
Oh…there you are again…
Appearing in my heart,
Through memories rekindled,
Each time I turn…
One more page.
Only two empty pages
Left…and I’ve just noticed…
With each end coming,
In those that have come
Before…times two…
I’ve left the last page
Blank and empty…
Maybe by chance,
Or was there a reason ?
Perhaps I left them blank…
Hoping one day I would
Return…
And write a different ending.
Erin Woods
an enjoyable view of thought...
nice work.....enjoyed....Art Sun...
Be safe,
Karen
Hoping one day I would
Return…
And write a different ending.
as you ..WE are the sole creators of our reality..so create what YOU desire..it's THAT simple!
Vesna :)
as I imagine all sorts of goings on in your journal;-)
A beautiful sharing!
Love,
Eileen
Regis