I have a pocket full of pebbles

But some are no longer there

Weighty, they burn a hole and yet

Their tactile pleasure keeps them there. For a while.

My pebbles are selected well

I will see them and feel them and then

When I am sure that one is right

I will add it to the others where it becomes a friend.

My pebbles do not stay for good

Sometimes I discard them. They serve a purpose

For a time they are then within easy reach

And then they are gone, washed away with another tide.

©Jemverse (January 2007)


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