I love the sounds in poems
The way words play upon the ears
Dancing in the lilting line
Or sliding down a cheek with tears
Broken line or sonnet form
I adore the vast array
Of images and metaphors
Used by a poet at play
But if I had just one wish
It would carry all the weight of these
Prayers of images which resound
Within the heart found on its knees
And if granted an abundance
Of imaginary rides on wings
I’d trade them all so willingly
To hear poetry which sings.
~r.
All rights reserved,
© April, 2007 R. Braley
(astralshepherd)






























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