Free-Wheeling Across The Floor - Poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
“[Style is] that which indicates how the writer takes himself and what he is saying. It is the mind skating circles around itself as it moves forward.” ~Robert Frost
Get me some wheels, fixed on shoes, watch me cut a rug or two.
Dreaming bursts into view, as Motown hits create heart’s new.
Lost, in majestic rhythm, entranced past a lonely crowded room.
Feeling like I own the stars, and could travel past the moon.
Always longing to gracefully fly, but nothing else is so plausible.
These wheels, of majestic wings, ignite emotions so inaudible.
Some amateur skating may be technical expertise, without heart.
With ‘a Natural’ expression is easy, creatively stepping apart.
True, some go to a rink to socialize, escaping from family-ties;
Others joyously greet the spacious floor, to physically vocalize…
I’m in heaven’s bliss rhythmically flying such inspirational wings.
Even this as an idol, I humbly surrendered to my Lord and king
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