My Words Are Words. Poem by Danielle Ward

Give my words just half a chance,
An open eye (or two) .
Now just you slim across my soul,
Another point of view.

Treat them tender, treat them kind,
Don't analyse the ink.
I am as written, I'm not as thought,
No need to stop and think.

Leave alone the part of me
This pen has left behind.
My words are dreams to be dreamt, not held,
A fragile trace of mind.

Do not twist to fit your hands,
These words are meant to live.
Listen to their silent sound,
It's all they're meant to give.

This may not be the Wordsworth-worth,
Nor deep as the waiting sea,
But it's what I write and nothing more,
So leave and let it be!