Sunday Champion


Back - Poem by Sunday Champion

age set my pen on exile
into an aisle where ink
is sniffle from its nostrils.
and chases me into a dry land
where thirst melts the hunger of
the soul of the tongue
like a leaf, my pen withered,
like a bird with plumes
that have lost the magic of the wind.

It is a story of a lost song
that took wings from the wind
a magic song of how a lost pen, drained
became a bleeding ocean flowing into
oceans
singing mellifluous songs age gaze to swallow.
Let the ink flows again!

Topic(s) of this poem: journeys

Form: Imagery


Poet's Notes about The Poem

After years of losing my pen of poetry, finally, I'm back and better. Sometimes, I think life do deliberately draw us back like an arrow, then refire us with high speed. And this is to make us better. Thanks for reading

Comments about Back by Sunday Champion

  • Bernard F. Asuncion (12/6/2017 5:34:00 PM)


    Sunday, nice thought... keep on writing👍👍👍 (Report) Reply

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  • Abhimanyu Kumar.s (12/6/2017 3:56:00 PM)


    Welcome back to the world of writing. All the best (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, December 6, 2017



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