There is a softness in your being
Holding itself out there for others to touch;
The ever present smell of fear haunts
A moment shared with such uniqueness.

In that small passage of time I change
Without always wishing and wanting your touch.
Holding tightly onto what is clear
Comforts the weak, who move slowly.
The fear of being moved by the care of others
Protects from many the full joy of life.

Closing up within the hurly burly place
Is it a statement of weakness or an absence of sight?
Which ever, obliviousness to the shift
leads towards the mutual horror of loneliness.
Softness over-ridden becomes slowly damaged,
Delicate flowers need careful sustenance.
To sustain that poetic touch is daily pain
With the finding heart needing little desert rain.

Feeling understood is a difficult art,
The vibrant colours pursued together
Never seem to settle into a precise image.
So when the created image resolves
With the meeting of softness and fear
The pure image created stays forever.



David Scanlon – United Kingdom – (1963 - )

Scanlon. D (2016) The Poet, The Prisoner & The Fool. The Foolish Poet Press, Wilmslow, United Kingdom. THERE IS A SOFTNESS IN YOUR BEING. Page Number 3.


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