
welcome to the world
the poetry for it is but
the way the heart explains
itself to the ignorant.
picking up the pen
to write the verse
frees the soul.

welcome to the world
the poetry for it is but
the way the heart explains
itself to the ignorant.
picking up the pen
to write the verse
frees the soul.

If you need me
look in my poetry.
no other place
exists so much of
who I am.
the words say
what I cannot
in a way that feels right.

Caustic ink burns
as the ink is carved
poetry is another expression
of the heart's desires
burning design
onto the paper
perhaps it is but
the answer to dreams

when the cold comes in
the pen freezes off,
poetry seems to spread
the warmth that the world needs.
so shake away the cold
and pick up the pen,
write the world
a much needed poem.

the first word
spoken freely
was a form of poetry.
Given to us as a dream
poems are the only true
communication.
we can speak with ease,
flourish and flowers…
oh really the poetry
and its powers.

Trying to find the poetry
when sick is extremely
Daunting.
*author’s note: I have been sick for the last few days. I went to check the pad challenge and try to get caught up…Day 10 was to write a 10 word poem. tbh this is the only thing I could come up with there. so I am only doing one poem for day 10.

How many stories can you tell
in the poetry you deign to
pick up the pen to share?
Drip epic energy
in words most sublime,
and tell me a story if you
possibly have the time.