BUBBLE TROUBLE 

far too often words fail

as the long-delayed mail

hardly stirring inspiration

sparking off scribbler's frustration

on horizon - no appeal

storming floors, walls

wells and streams

to procure thoughts, to again feel

repetitions, declarations

to awaken lasting motivations

no preachy tone, no useless phrases

staying artless to mellow gazes

less is more - the voice is urging 

still - the substance is slowly surging

delete filler words, truth enthrone

before the words are forever gone.

CLEANSING

she fell in the well

of tears

her lips remained mute

legs could not move

and the arms stayed motionless

out of fears

her eyes unwilling to look

unmoved to face

faceless visages

with axes of violent

lengthy blames and claims

she stayed in the well

of fears

lethargic - solace finding

in the motion and patterns of tears

yet disabled because of fears

her face moved upward

stirred by a familiar Power

to look toward the blue yonder,

the only gate

and then she left

the last flashback of hate.