My metaphors weep joy and woe,
living through moments of Thoreau-
Silent syllables speak in grace
where my muse I cannot replace.
My pure parchment I shall bestow.
Notions of love and letting go,
a voice of hope longing to grow.
My quill is ready to embrace-
A secret place that you don’t know,
it’s in my soul with fire aglow.
This gift I have I shan’t disgrace,
now I wear a smile on my face.
Seeds of inspiration I sow-
July 28, 2019
Rondeau Poetry Contest
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2019