Heavens To Metaphor
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This is a new poem. Since so much of what I write is free verse or political, I decided to go more traditional in a rhyming, metered format.
I sit, listening to the whisper in my breath,
shaping my expressions is safer than meth.
A voice among others, I am poet progenitor.
Do you see what I have wrought?
Heavens to metaphor!
As originator and instigator, I wordsmith
like a predator,
a panther ready to pounce,
an enchanter you might denounce.
Do you fear what I have brought?
Heavens to metaphor!
Finding fluid flourishes like jewels,
writing often without rules.
The singing cantor of candor,
A traveling troubadour
you never asked for.
Do you like what I have taught?
Heavens to metaphor!
In these days of isolation,
tenderness must be no aberration.
Here my casual parlance dances,
offering intimacy new chances,
for all your cares it enhances.
Do you welcome what I have sought?
Heavens to metaphor!
Copyright © Thomas Wells | Year Posted 2020
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