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The evening light upon the pregnant tide
Breaks up the psychic babble in my head
Easing my soul back into the wide
Expanses of the real which I so dread
Preferring my own thoughts before the sight
You constantly offer. If I had
The slightest understanding that your might,
So enigmatic, could outweigh the trivial and sad
Self-centred contemplation, how I would
Forsake it, follow where you want to lead;
Yet doing so, though I know that I should,
Seems more than this dull brain can now secede.
If only this rare beauty had the power
To cleanse my evening thoughts, like a cold shower.
Dr Brian Hick June 2011
©copyright Sally Hick 18.8.23
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