Sometimes when fear almost gets the best of me
When it comes to posting poetry
I look at books of 'hearts pieces' bared
And I thank the poets who wrote them, then shared
The poet by a whisper stirred
Endures the stormy swell
Roused by a constant flow of word
And pictures they could spell
The poet hears a melody
It takes her heart by storm
Where ink and authorship must plea
Its essence into form
The poet carves from quiet air
The image of a place
That transports us from here to there
And only thought can trace
© Janet Martin