Oct 31 2009
Perfection
Perfection does not live
here
But I do
Mistakes are not
strangers
but constant companions
Words trip and fluster
at furious speed
Flaws
too many to name
Stammers and stutters
make their own tunes
Regrets wait in the wings
and anxiously.
The past simmers in a pot
on the stove
its aroma taunts and
begs me
to taste
copyright 2009
3 responses so far
I love the image you posted with this…very well suited. Out of all the gray and melancholy, the flower still blooms in brilliant red…
“The past simmers in a pot
on the stove
its aroma taunts and
begs me
to taste”
I especially love this part because of how much inspiration I draw from the past in my own writing. You have phrased it very well..
hello cd,
thank you for coming back to read. yes, without the past sometimes our inspiration pantries are woefully lacking.
sarah
Beautiful! And true for us all. Peace and Love, Sharie
thank you kind lady of the ever so gentle spirit.
love
sarah
I eat that stew at lunch and have the left overs for dinner. Good read. Very clever little piece.
hello vic,
clever comment - i really liked it.
thanks for dropping by. it’s nice to know i’m not the only lover of leftovers.
sarah