Not Quite a Poem

I was in bitter spirits Christmas day.

At six in the evening, as the Angelus

pealed from St Agnes's, I urged myself:

"Do something creative, something positive!

Pray! Write! Have a bite to eat!

Stop! Sit! Breathe!" And so I did

most of those things! And my mood slowly changed

and mellowed to a more irenic key.

The normalizing daily things of life

that take the nettled soul out of itself

to focus on some happier, brighter things,

or some healthful pursuit, some work, some chore

that breaks the fevered rhythm of obsession:

these can save us, these can make us whole.

Poetry by Thomas DeFreitas The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2017-12-26 at 12:19

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josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Certainly I echo Pony’s comments about your amazingly astute term “ nettled soul” however as brilliantly evocative as those two words are, the whole is in itself a caring and touching prayer and reflection on so many who “suffer” Christmas. Bravo

I loved the last line. And, of course, the whole work is poetic. :)

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
In my mind these three words make this a fine poem:

'the nettled soul'

what more does a poem need than a few such words?