Futile to try to stopper ears
Or tie a blindfold good and tight
A poem disregards all spheres
And filters like a shaft of light
Through places that would not exist
Without a poet’s urge fulfilled
As jots and twirls of ink untwist
Into the art where Her heart spilled
Futile to steer Her by her arm
While poem’s unforbidden fruit
Dangles like plum-spangles, sun warm
And sweet as frost-kissed parsnip root
Where wild like ocean’s ebb and surge
Of waves that wash across the beach
She grapples with the tides that merge
With shafts of light just out of reach
© Janet Martin
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!