I cannot say this without missing some fragments.
What the mind reveals is too bright to paint
In words
In pictures
In song…
How I crave the expressiveness of thought
Living and true
Without the disadvantage of explanation.
I write with my mind
And when it is gone
I will write as I have always dreamed
Beyond the borders of limitation
Finally, creation comes home.
To write Shakespearean, sonnet of peer,
A tender write may bear him a story.
Though soul may roll over as spirit stirs,
As poets sit twain and shares much glory,
As pens do stir adding beauty a verse.
Write I may truly in renown fashion,
Thus pens unite as twain spirits rehearse.
Thus renown soul tells of renown’s passion.
Maybe in slumber, thus spell be broken,
Whence comes then, of renown a feather quill?
No scorn of renown was ever spoken,
In graceful discourse, nary of ink spill.
Thus dwells in heaven a renown true soul,
Love’s quill in hand , soul has perfect control!!
For: Even A Name can Be Poetry
In Honor of: Constance ~ A Rambling Poet~
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