Let me memorize each dotted 'i'
of moonlights freckled face,
Trace the silver ripples
of a seashores wrinkled page
Count the auburn stanzas 'tween
the depths of trembling trees,
Ride upon the vessel
of a sun-kissed simile.
Open sky-stripped windows
to the sigh of cursive clouds,
Shuffle through the metaphors
Awaking through the ground
Slant the sails of poetry
toward continents of sea,
Deep into the jungles where
the verses lace the trees.
Catch the winds of free verse
Or the open waves of rhyme,
Sift through ocean ballads
where the sunset greets the tide.
Study drops of scripture
as it clicks against the street,
Sleep between the pages
of departed poetry.
For if the world is a book,
I would want to read every page.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A commendable display of resplendent imagework, as well as virtually flawless structural movement. ~FjR~