Puddles

I've tried to impose some restriction on myself today. I was told once that structure can be anything but ultimately it comes down to patterns. I won't go into the detail see though if you can pick it.

It doesn't take much to inspire a poem...but I was taken aback as I walked up the steps at my rail station how the sun shimmered off the pools of water in the carpark. It was beautiful and their were moments where the light melted with the water and it really did seem as though I was seeing gold.

I suppose really beauty is everywhere we only need to see it. I hope anyone reading this had the opportunity to see something beautiful today :) maybe in the least likely place.

Puddles

There is a golden puddle
This morning it shines just
As bright as any water

There are two bodies entwined
On leather seats rattling bound
In opposite directions back home

There is a proud pool
Peeking between shoulder blades and
Sighing restless in deep crowds

There are names and whispers
Green men and dark women close
Like magnets they find each-other

There is a puddle here
a place passed everyday in
No way is it special

Until its beauty is seen.