Inspired by Sasha's post here
Write then,
Go; mad with joy of newborn day,
Or pup
Of lithesome grin of lad,
Of fresh-mown hay
Drink up
This cup where its air runs, rife
With un-penned poetry
And life is far too small to bear
In silent agony
So, write then
Mad with bliss, let life kiss you full
On the lips
Ere it slips to oblivion
Gossamer, an
Eclipse
Of moment over moment, lost
To past’s eternity
Of sad joy never madly snared
And bared in Poetry
© Janet Martin
Beautiful words, Janet.
ReplyDeletethank-you for the inspiration:)
ReplyDeleteI love this, Janet! Words flow like water.
ReplyDeleteHi Sara, thank-you so much!
DeleteI loved Sasha's articles this week.