Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie #Wordle #226 #Poetry

I trip over my own resolute stirrings,
denying that invisible string
binding heart and mind in union
An inward secret, a rich tapestry of dreamscapes.
Too late, my desire to become rich.
I keep the invitation I could not attend
hidden in my drawer.
I am no paragon. I am best at nothing.
In my hand I hold the black touch stone,
I am a glutton for more gold.
If I continue walking this path,
soon enough I will dig my way to my own grave

© Anita Dawes 2021

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