Wednesday, 14 October 2020

A Poem a Day (279): Sense of order

 
Sense of order
 
It’s someone he oft pretends to be,
Morning come and morning slung,
 
Evidence of his neat manner apparent
In the order of his everyday things,
 
Alphabetical, sized, full-coloured,
Never at a loss to find what he needs.
 
In time he will come to understand
His self, the world and time outside,
 
Life and its disordered chaos on speed
Dial, the undisputed challenger of order,
 
For now he’ll let it roil against the wall,
Waves churning on a tempestuous sea,
 
While he sits inside his everygreen lifeboat,
Buoyed by his hopes and his innocent love.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, October 14, 2020

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