Today I'm linking up with The Prompt over on Mum Turned Mom by Sara, with this poem about whispers.
I promise, there are no bodies. Although it's been close a few times over this Easter holidays, with people taking it in turn to be ill, so we've hardly done anything and are all stir crazy! It's my turn now, and I'm feeling better this morning, so hopefully we are done and ready to eat all of the chocolate.
Whispers
Words whispered in ears light up eyes
with the sweet warmth of secrecy
but wait:
in whose ear will these words be whispered?
Because a whisper winds itself along its way
becoming something new.
Ears pass to eyes, to lips, to the world
and are not, as you know, for real secrets.
Real secrets will be whispered to the wind,
to the weeping willow,
to the West.
Words on bodies must be whispered to the bees.
Will the whispered words be warmed, shrouded?
We can wish it.
Ⓒ Cara L McKee 14/4/17
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