Poetry Month: The Gossamer Haze

A turn of the head

a bit of lace

is all that it takes

–it captivates.

We’re awed by the grace,

unparalleled we perceive…

We reach out to receive

the offered pledges

of friendship, of love maintained,

hopes now unrestrained…

but all we grasp are edges

of the gossamer haze.


Disclaimer: A conglomeration of feelings–those fleeting and fickle things–merged into this poem. Introverts tend to struggle with the need both to be alone and to be accepted. We use the thorns (our prickly personalities) to hide the flowers (our laughter, talents, etc.).


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