Poetry by Betty Farber
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How can my mind make any sense
Of what is called “coincidence”? Is it bizarre, a mystery? Or just the way life seems to be? Would you be thinking so much lesser Of me, if I didn’t know that Hesse Won the Nobel Prize for Peace? But, (will wonders never cease?) The day that Quest told that to me It was a clue on Jeopardy! The question, if you’d like to bother Was, “Who was the author of Siddhartha?” I’m home, at ease, a memory brings To mind a friend – my cell phone rings. You surely guess what I’ll relate, It is that friend! It is that mate! But best is when you have a dream To eat a pie with mounds of cream. And someone that you dearly love, Says, “That’s what I was thinking of!”
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AuthorBetty Farber lives in New York City. She is a great-grandmother of six. Archives
July 2022
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