my self and I are out again;
we argue silently…and
if anyone is watching us
they’ll nothing angry see
no blush-ed face, no tightened lips
betray our inner din…no deepened
sighs, nor teary eyes betray our
out of sync within
complexity…time’s rusting of a life…
erodes us…ravels us at seams, as self
warps ever more from me, and sane
psyche…merely…drifts…in dreams
then simplicity…implicit in annealing
power of poetry and of music sculpture art…
heals the raveling of my soul, seals the rifting
and the sifting of essential self to me…to be
again graced blessed and myself whole
Bonnie Marshall
Artwork by Jon B. Paulsen
Proem... 
Bonnie a well crafted and powerful poem. >KB
I go a bit overboard with rhyme on this one, KB. Happens every time I read Emily. Know I’m sincerely grateful for the reblog. Smiles
Sure Thing. >KB
Reblogged this on A Mirror Obscura, and commented:
A powerful poem by Bonnie Marshall…>KB
Lovely; utterly lovely.
I’m glad you think so, Ward. I became carried away with rhyme. Ah, well. It was fun. Smiles.
This is an amazing poem! It’s not just the message, it’s the cadence & the ease it delivers the message within.
Resa, know I’m pleased you think so, and that you took time to say so. Smile.
I loved your reading of your poem. It’s beautiful and gives great insight into the meaning conveyed.
Ah, well, that’s all good. Know I appreciate your saying so. Smile.
It can be a struggle, dear. Yes, it can!
You are always thoughtful and wise, John. Please know I value that most sincerely.