Today I actually wrote a poem,
crafted it from odds and ends:
offcuts of thoughts
and leftovers of feelings, slightly warmed;
sleek syllables and yet slim sentences,
freshly ground wit
and a single in-joke purely for my friends.
I slaved for hours, paring down;
trimming and sculpting - ruthless in my love.
Replaced each burnt out word
with eco-friendly, brighter shining
warmer and more golden glow.
Yet sparing with metaphors
lest the unwary reader get the runs.
I wrote, redrafted, edited
toward elusive pefection.
Why?
God knows.
YOU ARE READING
Sweeping Winds and Rainbow Beginnings
PoetryThese are a few of my poems. I would prefer to take my time and try to sort the better ones out from the rubbish so it might take me a while to collect. I hope you can stop by and enjoy a poem or several. In poetry (good or bad) we express something...
