Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Versified islands

Each syllable an echo,
Every word a sigh,
Sentences adrift
in the vast sea of conscious,
The wandering waves of thoughts
breaking at the cerebral shores,
The quill picking up the
pearls from the rubble,
Juxtaposing
and laying them appositely
on the blank canvas,
Forming little versified islands
of dreams,
Breathtakingly beautiful.



2 comments:

  1. Hi Ruby -- what a wonderful poem. I particularly loved the consonance in "quill picking up the pearl".

    ReplyDelete

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.