I took a fistful of unwritten words
and turned each one carefully,
like pieces of burning coal,
tried with colors, shapes and sizes,
some straight and some bent like a bow.
watched them carefully from all sides
to find the right one, the wise one,
and I stumbled on the first rows.
Let me be the wind, to sing you a psalm
and play with the edge of your jacket,
let me be the rain you lick from your lips
and the melting snowflake on your palm.
I kept some and modified the rest again.
Let me be a singer and let me be a clown
for you to sing and cry and frown,
let me be your queen without a crown,
love me naked or dressed with a gown.
I tried more but they went their own way.
Be my Eros and I will be your Psyche,
Echo will sing for us, listen to her voice,
and Pan will play his magic flute...
Author notes
@>~>~~
In a list
You may comment or you can just turn to another page
Comments
-
it is clearly unfinished, as it should be. beauty is the best of unfinished poems...
-
Lovely penning, my Friend. My favorite part was the second stanza, although it is all quite well done, as always. Good luck in Lane's contest, Sweetie. 
-
Sonja -- you have always been an inspiration, this is beautiful
Adding your comment:
