Poetry from John Edward Culp


       With experience & 
     God's Gift
   in Heart
Belongs the tiny magnificence

Radiance steams damp soils
   Two seeds 
    Away from Done.

  How are the children?
       Your guess 
      Be my guest 

What are my eyes made of ?
        Optical Trust, 
        The lens of
        Knowing Clearly. 

Our Heat draws
 Comfort from the Trust.
  Restraint was lost,
   Finding a Balance. 

Seem calmly 
  my friend 

    Trust passes this way.

Empty enough to receive enough 
       Calls my name. 


  by  John Edward Culp 
      Friday morning 
       March 8, 2024

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