On an empty page, my quill
Does not sit to quench
Its thirst to lessen this quandary
To let, nay make, quintessential
Inroads, biding thy quiver
Of lexiconical bolts; queuing
And firing forthwith rousingly formed quips
Onto this pulpy papery quilt
Begat by thy mind & soul; quoth
I, the Poeter, set to quicken
One’s pace upon the barren quagmires
Of this regimented delineation of the exalted quatrain
Without the rigmarole to produce
Each line with, a notion of being abstruse
Nor, being meant to infer being obtuse
Or, to take a step back and be a communicatory recluse
A piece de resistance for the ruminating
Ilk, step forward with grandeur; minds & souls; scintillating.
Communicatory Eyes
Written: by Miracle Man
December 21, 2020
(my wife’s Birthday)
Her eyes can cut like shards of glass,
Yet speak to me, that I’ve got class.
Her eyes have pierced my very soul,
While encouraging me in life’s goal.
Her eyes reveal her inner thought,
But often make me feel distraught.
Her eyes can make me feel replete,
Those eyes have made my life complete.
“Never look for a worm in the apple of your eye.”
Langston Hughes
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