Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Wandering Through Word-gardens...





Thought touches suggestion
Then feels the fabric of
This frond and that
To find exact
-ly the right one to love

Thought, like a savvy shopper
Scans vowels and consonants
Until it finds
The perfect blend
Of syllable-romance

A slip of silk, my darling
A rush of raw appeal
A sob, a sigh,
A sweep of sky
-high lavender and teal

A tip-toe tango, fox-trot
A hold-me-close-slow-dance
A riveting,
Breath-pivoting
Farewell or second chance

Thought does not tally moments
As they spill into hours
For oh, the poets knows
A rose
Must bud before it flow’rs

© Janet Martin


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