It’s Magnetic Saturday, time to play with the magnets and listen to the oracle. After sending a couple of sweet messages, the oracle clammed up and refused to give me the words I wanted. Just goes to show that these magnetic poems are not entirely the poet’s creation. I had to finish this one free hand.
Why is the path so long
from here to there?
And dark the wind
as rain rustles softly?
Where do you wander
deep in the night
when the moon grows lonely
and I sleep gentle?
The answers lie in the morning,
in the dew on the roses,
when I look in your face,
and you take my hand,
and you say,
This time, this day
and the night that will follow,
together.
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