Word Songs

I wander in the wonderland of words where sounds can rhapsodize an inner flight and seek to sing like skylark midst the birds. To feel a lyric line is ringing right that rose unknowingly from secret source can send my senses soaring with delight. What guides the reasoned rhyme’s creative course? the urging of an enigmatic muse? or might it be a fundamental force? The words may dance or promenade in twos, at times leap forth as in a lightning flash, or shower phrases in prismatic hues… When glimmers come but embers turn to ash, there are no syllables with tongues of flame nor tones that thunder like a cymbals’ clash. Then I despair and falter in my aim of catching rainbows in a verse’s net and cry I should forsake the poet’s game. Still oft before the dying sun has set arises hint of inspiration’s spark albeit faintest flickering, and yet from out of what had seemed a moonless dark is heard the distant music of a lark… ~ Harley White