Poetry for Self Love
Sorceress — That Is Me
My thoughts are pure magic
when I see them manifest before my eyes —
I lie in my warm bed under warmer covers
with plump pillows
reveling in the luxurious feel
of rich cotton sheets.
Experiencing the wholeness that is me
The goodness that I ask for
because I know that I am deserving
Little effort — there are no dividends to these,
the ROI is not worth the sweat — the regret
of times passed coming last in the Olympics of the mind.
So I stretch like a young cat —
tail high, whiskers wiped clean
And said inside my head
Let it rain —
let the heavens open and
empty on deserving me — it’s wet blessings.
I listened and laughed
Rain on the rooftop
Sorceress, that is me.
© I. Trudie Palmer