Well Well Well, a poem by Linda Crowley at Spillwords.com

Well Well Well

Well Well Well

written by: Linda Crowley


and so every day to the well I come
dragging my bucket as small as my thumb.
‘tis only a drop I need from below
to water the garden where my stories grow

The well is quite full
fed by the streams
that run off the mountains
of all peoples’ dreams.

I lower my bucket
but to my despair
the nectar’s pushed back
like leaves through the air.
I lift up my bucket
the level soon rises.
I am not fond of such cruel surprises.

Down up, up down, and to my chagrin nary a drop as my patience runs thin.

And so, not today but maybe tomorrow
I’ll nourish a tale full of joy and or sorrow
My garden is thirsty
and I will not fail
to visit my well
and fill up my pail.

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