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Turmoil
There are days when my head feels like a carousel,
Spinning around so fast with memories and thoughts.
Constantly thinking, it’s forever on the go,
Like a calculator that’s adding up the noughts.
No stopping this onslaught, rotating at full pelt,
Ease will not come to me, however hard I try.
There is no switch to eliminate all these facts,
And so I‘ve this turmoil I need to pacify.
Oh, how I wish that a pure calmness would descend,
Clearing away the debris, things I shouldn‘t hoard, ,
Leaving a peaceful mind so silent and subdued,
One I can fill with dreams that so need to be stored.
Stillness is something we don’t often get to know,
A lightening of the heart, the brain’s now at rest,
Such a clearness to ones outlook, fresh, free and new,
A clean welcomed slate, and my ordered life is blessed.
poem
by
Ernestine Northover
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