Corners of hope get the fire;
Are many ideas to play,
Perfection is tying its stray
While thoughts take me further away.
I wander in evenings through square
Of feelings which mind deep my way.
No heroes I need on my stage
Just hands which embrace the nights’ cold.
It may be the storm, but it’s told
The smiles bring the sunshine and hold
The power of kindness upstage,
The caring remoulds scars to gold.
@Simona Prilogan, Nottingham
Photo credit: Pixabay – marusya21111999