I
Shadows over my heart
Like shapes and sounds of moving trees in the breeze
Everything needs a home from which to hone
Especially this art of poetry’s
II
How
it
hurts
my
Heart
III
To have the hearth in the home
of
our art unearthed
like death:
The tome of alone.
IV
Writers need
a foundational presence
to release
the seed of chaos
to
find the
creative essence
V
To have and lose sets loose
such
turmoil – Infused
like
Essential oil
VI
Sometimes the chaos of this place
Weighs
ever
so
Ponderous
VII
We know the
route
of
The easy
way
Out
VIII
I found a place
to
Stand
Righteous
IX
Pulling out the ink stained
Pen
Drawing out
a circle – From beginning to
End
X
So shall it be
XI
Three hundred sixty degrees
Of
Three hundred sixty five days
Of
Poetic seas
of
Poetic ways
Where
I
Shall see: Days of
Grace
&
Poetic ways.
***
Cipher
Poems
***
Feels almost biblical. Fascinating structure, well done.
Love the structure & content here. Marvelous job.
Whoa, you’re geographics are mesmerizing! So unique. A little TS Eliot perhaps? Artistic. A prayer of creativity. Loved it.
Phenomenal. Really liked: “Shadows over my heart
Like shapes and sounds of moving trees in the breeze”
We are dreamers of dreams, and masters of our fates. People sometimes do what they say. They almost always do what they want. What do you really want? Make your dream your fate.
“Three hundred sixty degrees
Of
Three hundred sixty five days
Of
Poetic seas
of
Poetic ways
Where
I
Shall see: Days of
Grace”
Your word is your wand.
I am literally speechless