His Dream

I was a thought
before my birth.
A dream He spun into the mathematics of time.

As the universe floats
in a consciousness beyond
human understanding,

He still dreams of me.
My days.
My ways.

For He loves all His dreams.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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Purple Stain

This one shrivelled.
That one plump.
In a rush as I sort the circles.

Pluck a stem,
one is smashed,
mold has grown.
Remove before decay infests
the rest.

Tip toeing through
my morning test of time economy.

Juice runs
purple and sweetness.
Marking the edge of fingerprints.

Box packed
with noon time edibles.
Ready for the day.
Wave goodbye.
The purple stain remains.

©2021 Mary Grace van der Kroef


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