An invisible hand hovers,
Over my troubled head,
My thoughts then recover,
As though back from dead.
My sheltered existence,
Seemed to be threatened,
Required of me was penance,
For the unrest to amend.
PROMPT COURTESY: Poetic Asides
what a beautiful poem. i love it... thanks for stopping by today. i enjoyed your visit and look forward to staying in better touch too. have a great night~
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