Tap-Dance – Heather Mirassou

I tap-dance on egg-shells in my ballet shoes.

They whisper across the floor.

Omitting noise that might entice a temper.

I find a hide-a-way in a hole.

My heart, soul, and pen are

controlling the inner-chaos

with a key that empowers me.

Vicarious Poet – Heather Mirassou

Your voice

A golden spoon

Laden with honey

Dripping languidly

Your tone

A wounded sparrow

Searching for safety

In a bed of soft feathers

Your words

Paint vivid images

With indelible ink

With shades of blue

Your feelings

Naked, pure and free

Pull heart-strings

Effortlessly

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