Oh! Letters
let us go
to that place
where pigs grow wings.
i will hold you tight
so you and i may lean
upon ebony ladders of vines
against the flowing ocean of skies.
For your lips gleam
in the sea shell of the moon--
and are far more imaginative
--more pleasing pressing .
Than the mazes the letters
make living in the depths of books.
For words trick us into seeing
other worlds rising
on the turning paper of our minds.
Copyright © Andrew Rymill | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment