MYSTERY

Something may happen

MYSTERY

 

Twas a rain-soaked day

To correspond with my patchy temper

A kick-off to matters beyond my control

Mystery besieges me

I sense truth is often erroneous

Long spills of time without hope

Moreover, the pith befits frailty

To linger sheltered is to linger no more

 

How can I ponder so vainly?

I balance too onerous on him

Resilience is not my bent

I sense a downturn in my being

A defeat of sorts

 

Doorbell rings

My heart slips down to my knees

T’is the kindly postman

At once I am speechless

He discerns my aura

Though he greets with a toothy smile

And bestows a letter in my shaky sweaty hands

 

I am elated, euphoric, over the moon

With this gift I detect is from across a vast ocean

 

Author's Note

SERIES: AT BRIDGES END

Reviews

[William Michael Reeves]

I should have started at the beginning. This is when you got the letters that go in the box in the next installment. I like the twists of meaning in this poem like spills of time and resilience is not my bent. A bunch of lines in this read wrong yet feel right. Tickles my brain nicely, without hurting.

I was afraid to read this when I saw the title. I got all wrapped up in that mystery Aura wrote. And you write Aura in this to boot!

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you W. For great review, I’m having fun with is series, like a soap opera.
Best, B

[Alla Antsis]

Betty,
Your poetry like paintings so visual! great story telling!

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you so much Alla, much appreciated!
Best, B.

[willweb]

Wonderful Betty. Soon I will have to go back and read from the beginning. This is really fun. I hope you are enjoying writing these as much as I enjoy reading them.

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you for your wonderful comments, I'm having fun writing this soap opera!
B