Once more, his quill stains A4 blanks,
Scribbling and scrawling against time.
And every single syllable talks only of you.
The poet’s chosen muse, he reveres you.
In gliding thoughts and flowing words filling the blanks.
His imagination brims with sentiments of lovely time.
Perhaps this will be one last time,
That his quill will talk of you.
With you gone, he lays it to rest amidst fluttering blanks.
He holds you again in the blanks, scribbling poems and prose each time, knows not what to write but you.
oh, it's the trinita! I got excited and read it several times. This is my favorite line: The poet’s chosen muse, he reveres you.
ReplyDeleteIn gliding thoughts and flowing words filling the blanks. Something about it just makes my brain spark.
Thank you so much. It is so heartening to hear such encouraging words
DeleteI just love the image of the poet scribbling away, the pages fluttering.
ReplyDeleteThank you Jennifer
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