Habit

A routine,
well enjoyed,
the same scene,
sways all voids.

Everyday
like the last,
time delays
yet runs fast.

Feel so trapped,
yet play coy,
a well wrapped
free will choice.

Perfect weeks
become months,
years soon sneak
bits of fun.

Life parades,
cycles swirl,
would not trade
for the world.

Patterns pace,
groove, and flow.
Peaceful face,
pure smile grows.

Holidays,
come and go,
each moon phase,
brings a glow.

Every night,
always shines.
Keep delights,
free confines.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Originally Published November 04, 2021

45 thoughts on “Habit

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      1. I would be absolutely delighted if you could take a moment to visit my blog of short stories and poems. Your valuable suggestions are most welcome. Thank you kindly!

  1. Beautiful flow and love the waltz through life! I am a creature of habit and routine…while I may deviate from them, they are comforting to come back to. 💞💞💞

  2. The structure and rhythm of this poem made it feel like a slow waltz that we were dancing through on every line – the perfect metaphor for this poem as the waltz is the oldest and one of the most simplest of the ballroom dances. For most ballroom dancers, it’s almost habitual.

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