So gently, so loved, so fragile

Your pictures are gathering thoughts, beating their rhythm on the past,
Too shrill, and distant, in my mind, yet heavy sometimes, and downcast.

Fragile is my memory now: a thin glass of old haunted house,
Unframing the stories behind, with musty melange in their rhymes.

The why and the how strode so long, twisting the colour of love,
For once it has gone in the dust, the softness has got bulky shove.

The questions were passing their trails, unstable, on wet murky days,
Letting the waters to flow, deep down in the reasoning ways.

Sometimes might be dark, yet the rain, is hugging my loneliness tight,
While waltzing together to shore, depicting new stars in the sight.

The nights are wrapping the skies with colours of hope, and with dreams,
Rendering memory’s dots to mighty, abundant, peace’s streams.

Still waves from the past are tuning their songs, often calling my name,
So gently, so loved, so fragile, ahead of the sunrise’s frame.

© Simona Prilogan, 08/07/2023, London

Photo: Pixabay

5 responses to “So gently, so loved, so fragile”

  1. 100 Country Trek avatar

    Thanks for sharing your words .Anita

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Simona Prilogan avatar

      Thank you too, Anita, for your visit and thoughts! Regards from the heart of London. 💜

      Like

      1. 100 Country Trek avatar

        We visited London many times .such an amazing site we visited. Anita

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Simona Prilogan avatar

        There is so much beauty, elegance, history, arts, and above all, a great intercultural harmony and deep human connection. We love London. 💜

        Like

Leave a reply to 100 Country Trek Cancel reply

I’m Simona

One day, I tumbled from a tiny star called Dream and landed in a cup of Hope, just beyond the zone of hard work, where daily wishes meet reality.

I’ve always dreamed of visiting Antarctica, though I haven’t made it there yet! Until then, I journey through the intricate landscapes of the human body in my work at the hospital, tracking the unseen stories of cells.

When I step outside my comfort zone, you might find me on a train to Eastbourne, Matlock, or Canterbury, breathing in the fresh air and gathering inspiration. I return with pockets full of poetic ideas, though time rarely lets me write them all down.

London’s endless rainy days often set the stage for my impromptu singing performances on my way to work. I love dancing too, especially the waltz, though I’m a bit too shy to twirl in the rain.

I have a soft spot for pasta, coffee, chocolate, and a good laugh. Politics might elude me, but the human soul does not. And if there’s one thing I believe in, it’s this: Love is our strongest emotion, survival instinct, and essential need.

Let’s connect

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