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Patience, Child!

Bev Cobbett

Be still, my mind!

Just a little while longer . . .

One day, soon. I promise! I. will. write!

But first, 

I must purge this house . . .

And purge my soul . . .

Rid every nook and cranny 

Of the muck and mire that drowns my fire.

That chokes it out.

That chokes it down.

That stops it from igniting.

I know the fire is there—I feel its heat!

Always . . . I feel the heat . . .

Its coals are deep. Smouldering. Sometimes flaring, but 

Never bursting into flame. Always muffled . . .

By endless


“I Shoulds!”

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