Ah, little quill within the hand
A simple ink and metal strand
Moving to shape a thought’s command
In curves of pensive heeding
What vast and vexing oceans swell
As scribes and poets seek to spell
The tides they cannot seal nor quell
Of passion’s pulses bleeding
We dredge the deeps of love and lust
Trolling the steeps of trembling trust
To scrawl these ink-gleanings of dust
In line and curve creation
Where ranks of gathered centuries
Unveil the rush of tear-drenched seas
With nothing more than ink-curve pleas
To shape a thought’s formation
Ah, little quill within our grip
You spill mind-tempests from your tip
Folly and wisdom smoothly slip
Upon blank paper-stages
Take heed, oh thought that moves the veil
Oh storm that fills a sacred grail
As we unleash our ink-exhale
Upon Time’s humble pages
© Janet Martin
A great warning... makes so much sense..
ReplyDeleteenjoying the rhyme and meter thoroughly...i am a great one for it ... but the train of thought you address is also SO MUCH worth a thought...:)so difficult it is curb the tides of our swelling oceans of thoughts ... all the poets there!!
Truly enjoyable work
Grace, thank-you for sharing your thoughts. Whether you comment or not my only wish is this, that in some small way you were inspired or encouraged:)
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