The wisp that whispers of truth,
Tells me of my waking star in youth.
What a spellbinding character.
Who laughs at my mishaps,
And dreams my dreams perhaps;
When I sleep I know he works.
A shop-worn fellow who deems,
I am sewn in most the wrong seams;
You could say hes a tailor of sorts.
His energy is mine to control,
But out of reach from my higher soul.
Only he has the ladder.
So I guess he could be considered firm,
A carpenter who builds my time in term.
For as I spin, I know hes steady.
And in the drizzling rain I become dizzy,
But he my shelter stays forever busy;
For he is a kindly composer.
Lastly he is the trumpet that toots just fine,
No matter how wrong the note of mine;
He holds a compassionate tune.
The water to my wave, the sand to my dune,
He is the whisper of the world I hope to come to know soon.
Author notes
He is the reason for all that is truth and lie, he is all thats ever been said. He is the wind that moves the tiniest thread, he is life.
"The Will Of Words To Say" is my prewrite I entered, I thought id make it easier on you and put in one with a similiar title.
good luck with the judging my friend.
A contest entry
- [CONTEST] Round 1; Intriguing Personas, Impacted Lives by MissPennyLane.
300 points, ended September 20, 2007, 37 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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He could also be the God that creates it all too, unseen and unknown but to those who have faith we believe him to be there, everything we do, think and say has ramifications on life. Very cleverly done. Love, C
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