Bathtime Reading

“I read the great verses, in the bath. . .”  Yes, I could have used the first person pronoun, instead of the third, in the two following poems.  I think they work better, however, using the more impersonal form.  I do read poetry outside the bath as well, of course, but I particularly enjoy settling into a nice, warm bath with an anthology of great verse.

The Great Verses:

He reads the great verses, in the bath.
The time, for him, they become more real.
There is time to think, time to feel.
Buoyant with bubbles, suffused with steam;
time to slumber, time to dream.

That one is good; but its truth is above me”.
This one is good; but its beauty goes through me”.
“I could do one like this; but would only fake it”.
“I’d love to do that one; but I cannot make it”.

Here’s one that sings, siren-like, to his brain.
Sinks into it smoothly; no struggle, only gain.
Transcends all tragedy; purges all pain.
Refreshes his soul, like soft, sprinkling rain.
“I like that one” he whispers.  “Let me read it again”.

The Great Verses (2):

He reads the great verses, in the bath.
Floating in fragrance; harmonious haze.
He envies their magic, strives for the path;
ever-elusive, evading his gaze.

At times, frustration incites his wrath.
Patience!  Perspire and pray, they preach.
He has drifted, it seems, in delusory daze.
So near, he thought, yet so out of reach.

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