Wordsong-A Song In Free Verse
writing poetry lifts me
to the gates of windsong
frees my soul,
on birdwing rides
fills me to the length
and breadth
of abstract….
subconscious contact
breathes an aire
of restfulness
Quiet solitude of bliss
in frustration of word search
I am word,
without which - - - nothing
pure and literative
strongly figurative
give me space
to hang my thoughts….
to pen my happiness
with illustration
let me mark the wall
with distinction
my oath upon
the words cast
molded in perfection
they hang between
naught and forever
poked and prodded
dissected, preserved
in absentia
mocked, lauded
and analyzed
thoroughly washed in
dross opinion
sliding on gilded
tongues of imperfection
laid to rest in halls
of resurrection
waiting for revival
in wordsong
© 08 Dec 2010 Charles Henderson
Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2011
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