My Five Senses
When I write I use my every bit of skill
these fingers they have loved, cajoled
fed and bathed babies,... elders too
they were made for typing words anew;
When I write I use my eyes to see
the things that need to be reviewed
the pulse of a wing upon a blue heron
the shift of a leaf on a tree or a flower
When I write I hear the world around me
sometimes muffled by the noise and rush
sometimes quiet as a homely mute
sometimes I can hark, a pin drop....
When I write I can smell the coffee
from my favorite writing nook
by a distance I can inhale the roast
that shakes the beanie undernote
When I write I can taste the empathy
of a broken dream on celophane sheet
of a titan in his glory, onward victory!
or a dying victim after a sudden crash
When I write, I am the sharpened sword
When I write, I give myself up to the word
I can feel, hear, smell, see and devour
When I write, I feel the creative power
inside,
when I write....
July 24, 2018
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2018
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