IN a WORD are the little things
the meaning bigger than me.

Within a Soul is great soup
the tongue and her taste great.

Inside the nest unborn eggs
unpublic – slanted sight!

My unborn babies are largely great
inside only a single name:

a lifelong dying Soul as me –

Admirning time and her quaint space.

A poet? For me yes but you for
saving grace a possibility.

:: 02.14.2022 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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