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Poetry Pleases: Control

Jess Shea muses on the one who holds the remote which controls our lives.

Listen to the beat of my crestfallen heart,
My rhythmic breathing,
And the unsettling thoughts escaping my mind
As wind and water coincide.

Sit with me, clandestine from the world, shielded from society,
As we watch the sunset scrutinize us with tender knowing eyes,
While it sinks below a color streaked horizon.
Whispers of what could come to pass escape my wind-chapped lips,
Whilst I repose upon your shoulder.

The resounding cadence from thunder's drum quickens it’s pace-
In anticipation of renewed faith form soulless beings waiting below.
The vibrant appearance of a lightening bolt flashes for an instant..
At sensing sheer mirth and hoping for a glimpse.

Evergreen and holly leaves coat the ground,
Emitting a scent so powerful, it lingers for years on end.
Inhale deeply as pure and undiscovered happiness swells in the lungs, longing, to be released.
Twilight ebbs and dew soaks the jaded grass we surrender to,
Putting our wearisome minds in such a slumber,
We ought not wake.

Cloaked in languid grace we drift away…
Yet we stand to face another unknown day.

Moments that last forever must be induced,
Although god in his realm of exquisite luxury controls the remote.


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