Soft soapy water

spilling through my outstretched hand

so hard to hold

like windblown smoke

or shifting sand.


Whispered voices speaking

without sensitivity or grace

while practised smiiles

conceal the lie

behind each shining face.


Soft soapy water

filtering through my wearying hand

disolves my innocence

while God's own godless daughter

reasserts her cold control.


Windblown smoke and shifting sands

no bedrock for a fragile land





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Dorothy Webb

Sat 16th Feb 2019 16:50

Thank you Kate, Dripping indeed

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Kate G

Sat 16th Feb 2019 13:23

Beautiful Dorothy. Dripping in meaning.

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Dorothy Webb

Sat 16th Feb 2019 10:56

Thank you jason i value your comment.

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Jason Bayliss

Sat 16th Feb 2019 10:53

I really love this Dorothy, beautifully expressed metaphor.

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