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She searched her soul in despair; kneeling at
confessional round thus tranquil shade. Thus
recalling her faults of former years; her tears
flood round in silver waves. “Lo! tis rightfully
said that home’s four walls which thus enfold
a person true; theΒ substance being a warp of
cares. I must confess I know not home; nor
seek thus usual devout affairs.”

She wondered what these walls would say;
had they but power enough to speak. Thus
she heard voices speak as though on cue;
like signs of faith and brightΒ critique. “Lo!
a hundred men might makeΒ encampment,
it takes but women to lead and secure the
home. Thus picturesque and balmy grace,
have fields luxurious enough to roam.”

Thus glow of smelting noon and sun;
Had faith restored and surmise spun.



Posted for Poems in April @ Real Toads

Posted on Midweek Motif @ Poets United

48 Replies to “Confession”

  1. I wonder if the ones that confess actually are the one that have the least amount to confess… yet I think it might heal… Lovely poem.

  2. “Thus glow of smelting noon and sun;
    Had faith restored and surmise spun.”

    This is such a lovely note on which to end; that faith should be restored in a loving God

    have a nice Wednesday Sanaa, thanks for dropping in to read mine

    much love…

  3. I like your easy, almost hidden rhyme, near the end of the first and second stanza. He gives to you listen when, and what, you need to hear. Wonderful write.

  4. Lovely poem! I have never been in a confessional I wasn’t raised Catholic. I see you have prompts I didn’t know. Maybe I will stop in sometime and write.

    1. Hello Bekkie,

      Thanks for stopping by, so glad you liked it πŸ™‚
      Highly appreciated, have a great week ahead.

      PS: That would be nice πŸ˜€

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