Forevermore

Eight words, G8, so to speak, All stood in the gloaming. A melancholy prospect it was, A set of frosted, nay, blasted words, Which could never make a poem. Unpredictable are the ways of this sponsor, I muttered, yet decided To make a valiant attempt. You may not find any humor Nor a touch of pathos In these contrived lines. However, now that I have used the G8 once, I feel like using it forevermore! ***

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Patricia Cresswell

Date: 8/30/2017 12:07:00 PM

The thought that you prompted with this thoughtful poem is this; words are like sacred jewels each individually faceted. one must study them and set them carefully to create beauty.

Patricia Cresswell
Date: 8/30/2017 11:14:00 PM

Am I over stepping the limits by interpreting my thoughts created by your poems. If so I apologize and will stop.

Ram R. V.
Date: 8/30/2017 6:45:00 PM

Thank you, Patricia, for your neat interpretation. I suppose, at this rate, I can as well nominate you as my interpreter. You will be my voice! Well, between you and me, Patricia, this poem I wrote for a competition only to find out that the deadline was already over:) If I may suggest it to you, you and I should collaborate writing poetry, to start with, for competitions and later on a regular basis. Okay? By the way, let me see your face, Patricia, instead of interacting with a disembodied voice, so to speak!

Ram R. V.
Date: 8/30/2017 6:45:00 PM