Like Swirling Leaves
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My poetry is both sad and artistic,
as I pen my words;
and the art of my verse is beautiful and deep,
but oh, my whirling words are frantic.
And sometimes are just so heartsick,
these poems are fragments of my life that fall;
like s w i r l i n g leaves . . . ,
frozen in time and in verse.
Oh, this writing can be a curse,
as art poetic is entwined with weeping tears;
where my whole heart and soul immerse,
in this tangled journey that I transverse.
And my destiny to pen is crystal clear;
I will ever be . . . a whirlwind of words.
___________________
May 16, 2018
Poetry/Free Verse/Like Swirling Leaves
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1022-722-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2018
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