Sacred Are The Whispers

Those whispers so diverse
from ‘I love’ to screams of pain
 screams that are whispered
like a sinking boat, sliding down
in deep waters

So many facets she is in one day
joyous in the sunlight to agonized
in symptoms, the thieves
in her life, she can’t understand
she whispers in distress

Sacred are the whispers
from eras past when she felt loved
and fulfilled, ‘You’re welcome,

my pleasure’ and ‘I love you too’
she smiles, knowing her loss
will never be known

Published in Know Thyself, Heal Thyself

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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