Will my verse reach your ear
can your eye stay the course
listening, then writing my verse I awake, content until the next time, the chords at my finger tips drift back and forth into a song.
Take a deep breath, exhale and
read between my lines
on image alights as a butterfly in spring, a thought arrives as inspiration on the wing. An idea resides to crystallize and brings each together as one.
Does convention confound
the rhythm of your eyes
oh to avoid convention's game make the image surreal upon my page. Stop, dear reader in your stride, bring forth your imagination and join me on this ride.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem