By Zeljka Jovanovic
The oldest one within me is the little girl
covered with layers of life
now already a bit wrinkled
The outer, visible skin
although the last one that appeared
is the newest, the freshest.
I am repeatedly surprised to see her in the mirror
I see them all
They all become beautiful through love
The Sleeping Beauty
awaits a wake up call
meanwhile
sitting quietly, doing nothing.
Oh, I thought I stopped writing poems
Oh I thought the well had dried up!
But one little message from “Gentle Voice Dateless and Desperate”
gently reminded me
saying
“Next issue of GV… if you wish… short amusing bio…”
and so words were formed:
