At times I crave a moment to indulge—
To indulge in doing nothing whatso,
And wish, let the work wait, wait a moment.
A wish is it of an indulgent heart
Of which my harsher head nigh little know—
Rest and respite in a vast sea of toil,
The season then changed, comes pleasant spring
With its sights and sounds that herald due change—
Bees, butterflies when play in floral groves.
And in quiet moments amidst all this,
Magical most, face to face with the heart,
In a deeply overflowing leisure,
Head sees the point that heart had made,
And there's no more that rigid head,
Indulgent again by heart led!
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Musings | 36.02.2019 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Head sees the point that heart had made, And there's no more that rigid head, Indulgent again by heart led! ______The magic of Spring leads the heart over head - - A lovely poem about how you find your Muse, thanks for sharing.
Thanks for liking my spontaneous expression of heart, or finding my Muse as you put it.