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A Small Uplifting I own a shawl of dismal thoughts in murky shades I really hate; yet I will clutch those tattered threads and crouch beneath their sullen weight. A covert comfort seems to seep, when wrapped within its misery. (Of course, this feeling could be based on wan familiarity!) One day, I huddled in its gloom, when through an open window flashed a darting note of crystal light -- as if a drop of heaven splashed! It landed on my shoulder, pressed a misty aura to my ear; I felt a surge of sudden warmth, my clouded eyes began to clear. Perhaps it was an angel's kiss that freed me from self-pity's spell; for hope began to breathe again and laughter rang a tinkled bell. The stretch ahead was steep and rough, and though I trembled, pale and scared, this small uplifting brought me strength -- somehow I knew, that Someone cared. copyright 2001 Laryalee Fraser Quiet Visitor Conscience peeks inside my door and glides along the furthest wall; I sense her presence, briefly nod, then brusquely snub her quiet call. She tiptoes through my cluttered floor and stretches forth a pensive hand - a touch, a nudge, a firmer prod - she wants my full attention span. Annoyed, I wiggle from her hold, escort her out the backyard path. An old friend, Risk, I now expect - I hear his step, his raucous laugh. He struts right in, demeanor bold, upheaves my schedule, gives no rest. I wanly note, in retrospect, that Conscience was the better guest. copyright 2001 Laryalee Fraser |