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A Poet's Penance

She smiled An ambient temperature smile At best A torqued acknowledgement. The paper shrieked Eraser burn and frustration Testing the limits Of its tortured muse. Again Words kissed the atmosphere Glided on meter Danced in a rhythmic dream. Again She smiled A tear, a whispered “I love you” Embracing her gift I wondered: “Would you love me If I wasn’t a poet?”

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Silent One

Date: 9/13/2023 1:40:00 PM

Thanks for writing and congratulations on your placement.

Jerry Brotherton

Date: 9/6/2023 9:08:00 AM

It seems you found her. She is a very fickle mistress indeed. Some great words my friend.

Gershon Wolf

Date: 9/1/2023 1:41:00 PM

Quite a love story there, John. Awaiting an encore! Bravo, Gershon

Sarah Ann Jullion

Date: 9/1/2023 10:16:00 AM

Nicely done John. I like your minimalist word count... true poetry in my world. Few words that speak so many words, e.g., '...the paper shreiked." :)

Jan Allison

Date: 9/1/2023 9:30:00 AM

Great lines John, sadly I'm not a poet just a pooh-et so i wont be entering the contest lol:-)

Di11y Da11y

Date: 9/1/2023 9:30:00 AM

Wonderful John, I've had little sleep but I'm picturing the dance between the poet and the muse - loved and tortured perpetually by one another. Beautiful

Anne-Lise Andresen

Date: 9/1/2023 9:28:00 AM

- A terrific contribution to this contest, John - Best wishes :) - hugs