https://freeverserevolution.wordpress.com/2020/10/19/oct-4-ripples/
Ignoring the ripples doesn’t work,
Beautiful though they may be
In the early light of an autumn dawn.
The ripples return.
Their warmth long gone,
Drained of blood.
Injected with colors of autumn’s dawn,
They look full, alive with mysterious meaning.
But cold these ripples remain
In their return to me.
Time shifts,
Tilting beneath my feet.
I shutter and stare, a moment only—
I cannot weave these cold things
Into a useful thing, resembling you.
Hearing The Mermaids Sing 
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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thank you!
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Always a pleasure to read and share your posts with followers, My Dear!
xoxo
😘💕😁🌹
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A beautifully worded analogy, 😏💛
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Thank you so much. I value your opinion, Ivor.
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