I Heart all Comments
Except the other kind … which
I simply Delete
One day I’ll stop doing this
Then I shall have made progress

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on December 21, 2017, in Wee Poems and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. ❀️ comment πŸ’•

    Liked by 1 person

    • Metaphor, dear reader, metaphor. πŸ™‚ Haven’t forgotten you, Sheldon or lentil roast either but so much is ever afoot. I was up at 4.30 am washing up last night’s things and making marmalade. So much to do; so little time. Sadly my dear one is not so good today and the shops are beyond manic. Equanimity? Striving, honest.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ben, don’t be concerned with emailing me – I understand. It’s hectic enough with the holidays and you have so much more going on. I’m still wishing for that magic wand to wave over you both. Take care, my friend.

        (P.S. metaphor, yes. Sometimes I’m at a loss for words, and that’s what happens. Corniness. πŸ˜– )

        Liked by 1 person

      • Corniness? No, I wouldn’t say that. Several folk are waiting on e-mails but I’ll get there eventually.

        Liked by 1 person

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