Your Healing Help

Your Healing Help

The words hovered around me like a pest
Everything in them seemed to sting
And after a while I grew tired of swatting
And so I just gave up listening.

Still the stingers stuck in my skin
And burrowed deeper over night
By the next day they were open sores
Prone to infection, hard to fight.

There was a toxic resin coating all the thorns
And every effort I gave to pull them out myself
Was met by some kryptonite-like force
Draining both my strength and my health.

I was rendered powerless to remove them
My body weak, wounded, and sore.
So I lay there feeling sick and helpless
Until I was graced with your presence at my door.

You knew even before you arrived
That I was in dire straights with this draining day
And soon your nimble fingers began to work
At my wounds with your ever-so-careful way.

You asked me how my day was
Which provided the perfect distraction.
The sound of my own thoughts made audible
Overshadowed the ongoing extraction.

You plucked the stingers one by one
From my soft, pale wounded skin
The physical pain caused me to tear-up
But it was a momentary feeling within.

Soon they were all out and piled up between us
Their insignificance exposed at last
And those words that threatened to harm me
Were now safely stored in the past.

After that my strength returned with a quickness
And I was able to smile once again
Your ways and your words and your wisdom with life
Make me feel fortunate to call you my friend.

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About ShySpark

I blog, I garden, I eat cheeseburgers, and sometimes I take pictures. But mostly I just write poetry...
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