The Sound Waves

The waves sounded so strong to me, Stronger, heavier, thicker, tickly tilted. I looked at it tail and head, picking the Grains of its eyebrows dashing away; It made my hair stood still on my neck. When I looked, it was poetry; a poetic words Sounding, gliding in gayish embryo like a foetus. The zygote of its waves drummed heavily on The mouth of my scribbing pen. I heard the sound over and over... Sounding, recording, beating, appealing To my soul as I moved to touch a head; A head of poetry and caress a tail I saw; A buttressed beautiful tail of poetry. The elephantry of my eardrum stood, A word I never knew came tempting, A song I never sang rose in my throat. I wish I could write a poem I can't read, I wish I could read a poem I can't write; The sound waves I can't listen to here, A word that can't be combined to form a sentence. In the physics of my heart I knew I have fallen In love with a sound waves so pure like the Rhythm of Enya. (C) John Chizoba Vincent Voice Of Vincent 2016