Colors of the Soul

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  • Sadness

    Colors of the Soul

    I gaze upon this shell that seems so familiar.
    The wrinkles on its pearl skin,
    the colors of a joyful sunset
    often appear on her wise face.
    The soft lullaby of the waves
    brings me back to a voice, cracked with age.
    The subtle beauty of the shell that has seen so much.
    Come so far from Mother Sea.
    Come so far and right to me.
    This shell reminds me of a soul I have lost and now found.
    The whispered words are hers,
    and I ache to be in her arms once more.

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    breathe’s Poems (6)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Manners 0
    Rockability 1
    Head of Nature 0
    Shell of Youth - Yolk the Butterfly 0
    Colors of the Soul 0
    The Fish in the Drain 0