A Living, Breathing Bauble

I tell myself, maybe twenty times over, that what can be seen
Isn't there to be grasped. It is there to be treasured because
Of its beauty, approached with some care, perhaps deftly
Engaged, but, in due time, it's certain to pass out of sight,
Leaving an image to hang in my memory, of something,
Once cherished, ungrasped.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 49 times
Written on 2023-11-07 at 18:13

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Much enjoyed, for me it feels like it's relating to a person, beautiful, but unobtainable.

Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
A really powerful and wise poem, Lawrence. All of the words true. All of the words passing onto the reader an unquestionable truth. Bravo.
Blessings, Allen

Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Ah, I like it that way, leaving its further development for one and all, the way really good poetry does. I breathe... and step ahead, vigilant, open-minded, scared

alarian The PoetBay support member heart!
but I read somewhere that beauty won't save the world....

Beautiful. I fully agree with the sentiment you've expressed in this short verse.


Seems a bit incomplete no? Like half of a poem. It feels like its about to dive into something larger but just stops.

Just my thought.