They Are Afraid Of The Ordinary

they are afraid of the
so they stand still, stare at an object
that long
to really take all the details and put them
all again,
the target is the beautiful
that which gives the awe and the wonder
the flame of curiosity
towards a certain perfection which they can
put on the table for you
perhaps to cause an envy
of what you have not seen
and written

i do not fear the mediocre
the shallowness of a memory
the fun of what is not so beautifully crafted
and so i do it every moment
i please myself and that is purpose enough.
in a second, it will still be
my own imperfection.


Comments (4)

Marilyn I still love to play like a child because it helps you remember all the things you never had. I for one was quite a poor child and I had to make up toys and games as I did with my children and I still do with my grand children, when I see them. Child like things should never stop they should just be packed away ready to come out when you need them. Your poem brought back so many memmories cheers Sylvie
Well... Today I have my Birthday and your poem suits my thoughts today... Best wishes :)
You're never to old to cuddle a teddy, Marilyn. As for sand castles, you should see mine! For some of us, childhood never leaves. Love, Fran xx
What a delightful sharing and a lovely penning. Sincerely, Debora