With ramshackle shards
Of heart, soul, self
Falling away like the browned petals
Of a long-wilted bouquet,
We create a riotous noise
In ramshackle attempts
To find some connection.
Lumbering, awkward attempts
At reaching out to touch once again,
To replace, to freshen
The brown wilted and missing parts
With new bouquets of spring
Whose stems sit in eternally
Fresh, clean waters.
We dream of a life lived
No longer ramshackle,
With no long-wilted bouquets
Of a past to haunt with falling petals,
But a life returning whole,
To move without noise
Through the world once again.
Hearing The Mermaids Sing 
Beautiful
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Nicely done, Annette.
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Thank you
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A very poignant poem, I really felt it. The “ramshackle attempts to find some connection” / “to freshen the brown wilted and missing parts”
and the whole of the last stanza – very moving ❤
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Wow! Brilliant and powerful piece! The last stanza speaks volumes.
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Thank you
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My pleasure!
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