“Skip it,” ladybug declared
as she rushed out of her nest
Heading out to be busy
Around 10 o’clock
she was really sorry
she had said that
And even sorrier
that she had indeed
“Skipped it”
Empty bravado
begets less
than it might seem
Tender thoughts
fragile with newness
and unfamiliarity
dropped like rose petals
on the shelf of fertile consciousness
Unwasted – only spent
this go around
adding richness to the moment
depth to the psyche
Potpourri of fodder
New blooms every season…
sometimes it looks like me
there in the glass
sometimes it looks like opposite
a clash
A mirror for you
looks like your past
there in the glass
looks like someone else there
All that glitters
cannot mirror for us
like loved ones can
All that shines
is not necessarily clean
Mirror of mine
what better way to see my progress
I see you as you see me
and back a step we see we
Love looks at love
Love is all love sees
