The dark angel of doubt,
Frolics on my black heart strings,
Will they be ready, ready to receive us,
In the land of art and crafts,
The homeless word angels once of Tiki’s coffee house.
The hub promises to be our new place.
Our place of shared words and light.
These dark word angels,
Off this guild will always be,
Like Yin and yang flowing,
Forever around each other,
Keeping each other vigorous.
The forlorn angels playing with my mind,
Blocking my mind, keeping it vacant,
When I pick up my pen.
My pen always knows you are there,
Forlorn angel of doubt,
Pushing and shoving the dark angel into the light,
Helping me find my words again.
Mark this page with a broken heart,
th story of the guild,
We gave Tiki’s a classy farewell,
Here we are one before fifty,
Starting anew with hope for the future.
th Dec 2022 rogleach
Written for the last prompt given out in company of the Tiki’s coffee shop guild in the very coffee shop it is named after,
the coffee shop having closed just before Christmas
the group is presently waiting for work to be completed on our new meeting and sharing place after a burst pipe flooded the local art hub. this was planned to be shared on sat Jan 7th.