No longer does she lumber,
Asleep through her day.
This Sleeping Beauty was woken,
By a word, a glance, a smile.
Her heart and body may be a wreck,
But the world has flicked to colour.
She breathes it in,
Eyes looking up.
Tiny bubbles of pleasure,
Grow and blot the pain.
And she is thankful to be living again.
To my muse. Thank you.
The three prompt words this week were bubble, wreck and lumber.