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.
Categories:
rousingly, inspiration, metaphor, poetry, writing,
Form: Verse