Winged Words
Like a creature hibernating in its burrow
Waiting to come out with the first verdure of spring,
The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart
Through the long winter awaiting another spring.
After staying torpid inside for long,
At a time I expected it the least
Timidly came out the first word,
As shaky as a calf getting up for the first time.
Then another came and word after word in a row
Like pellets of rain on the window pane.
I boiled them in the crucibles of my imagination
And dipped them in the ocean of my emotions.
But rhyme came to set constraints.
For the right alignment I struggled.
I had to decide on its texture and format.
Pondered if it should be a sonnet or an ode.
I might have kept the door open for long.
Alas! All my words and fancies flew away,
Like birds taking on wings into the sky
From a cage where they were imprisoned for long.
I stood so helpless with my mouth shut,
Staring blankly out into the airy nothing,
Like one lost in the doorway of his own threshold,
Unable to call back those winged words lost in the void
________________________________________
~Placed Fifth~
Submitted for Marathon no.10. Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Mark Toney
~Placed First~
31. March .2022
A Brian Strand Standard
Poetry Contest
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