Guild of Motes

In the little nooks and crannies
Of the lives we build
Hide these tiny moments
That have their own little guild

They are a force when together
But you would not have thought it so
If you looked at each alone
You’d think – this one can’t land a blow

Pack a punch they do
When then gang up on you
A finger slipped on love’s little trigger
And boom! Gone all sense – it’s true!

A baby, the boy, the girl so sweet
The job that we worked hard to beat
A poem, a sketch, that story we wrote
For us – the world, for the rest – a mote.


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