Poetry Blog by Rich (soul place)

Quiet

Far away.  Away over hills, dales, swamps and footpaths.

Lies my dwelling. My being place.

Where all me is kept.

My spiritual, etheric, foddering home.

I can't take you there - for the place is mine and mine totally.

Taking another would change the place to not me.

Not mine.

Make me pine for a place that was.

That no longer exists.

So I'll slip away.

Quietly.

And b...

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