Poetry Sunday

On The Mend

Often times I felt reclusive.

My wandering thoughts very elusive.
I needed something, a zest to live.
I wax poetic, my heart I give.


In my vocal words you'll see,
a glimpse of light shine forth from me.
I see a ray shine from the moon;
dancing crystals my soul to commune.


Wading in fragrance, I want to smell,
behold a beauty my heart to quell.
Tis' not a negative light I seek,
the glory I find in the quiet meek.


My soul is dancing as moonbeams glare,
a sigh of relief, I breathe the air.
Inhale all that life has to lend.
My soul now finds a way to mend.