Monday, April 6, 2015

In Poetry



from Living With Poetry by Howard Lewis Trueman

Most intimate of friendships, thine
Where thought and ink soft intertwine
To rouse and wrest from pageantry
Of word thy Best in poetry

What impulse doth thy music stir
As sinew, bone and body blur
...a strange familiarity
Held heart to heart in poetry

Your murmur melts into my lips
I crave your bloodless fingertips
For who but thee can touch me where
Acquiescence is akin to prayer

And who knew syllables could woo
With nothing but whispers ink-blue
Pressed once-upon-a-page by thee
Who too was wooed by poetry

Thus you, articulate, and I
Hungry for more than bread and pie
Enmesh, not flesh, but soul as we
Meet, mind to mind in poetry

© Janet Martin

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