A puppeteer,
happily laughs.
Eagerly steers,
a narrow path.

Pulling my strings,
making me fling,
giving me wings,
dance as he sings.

Well entertained,
as he creates.
Knowledge ingrained,
he gives as traits.

Gives me a life,
that he designs,
opens his eyes,
while closing mine.

A breath of light,
planted inside.
Provides insight,
serves as a guide.

Hides far behind,
thoughts in my mind,
feels undefined,
and so divine.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

57 thoughts on “Handmade

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  1. A lovely poem on puppet. This is a different art altogether. Emotion well captured, Grace πŸ’–πŸ’

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