Ah, Brooding Thought; Intimate One

Ah, brooding Thought; Intimate one

Thou makest willing hands a pawn

Where thou commandest they obey

Without a sound thou hast thy say

For thou, though veiled cannot conceal

The words that touch and taste reveal

And no white-washed hypocrisy

Can fool the rules that order thee

And though no one can see thy form

Thou takest the whole world by storm

Because each sleight of hand is taught

By thee;  intimate, brooding Thought

…and shouldst I think to usurp thee

Thou makest a servant of me

For thou art lord of every move

Then pray thee, Thought, that thou art Love

© Janet Martin

...now I think I better do some dishes and decide what's for supper! 

I hope Thought allows some lovely-yummy inspiration;-))