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Sweet Solace
Heart shaped stones held in one’s hands,
are so soothing to the touch,
Said to free our thoughts from stress,
As with fingers we caress
them. Each warming in one’s clutch.
With surfaces silky smooth,
they’re such very restful things.
Coloured in some varied hues,
Streaked with gold, and subtle blues,
Their presence sweet solace brings.
Gently turning them around,
on a moist and supple palm.
Clears the brain, ending worries,
Stop’s one’s odd nervous flurries,
leaving the whole body calm.
Clasping them, one’s inner soul’s
released from all its pressure.
Therapy for a fraught mind,
Banishing tears and fears combined,
With a skilful force majeure.
poem
by
Ernestine Northover
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