There is a stillness
unexplainable stillness
precisely at the moment when reading through
all these poems. Flitting from one to another
bird-like, thought to thought, looking for cherry-like
ripe fruits of labour that lay dangling
in tasteful tricks that are ripe and ready
to be plucked and savoured
juices dribbling
down your chin.
Ah, poets write in visuals
and words placed carefully like a painting
with shades and colours and hues
that complement each other
in that crystal moment when the magic happens
and the finest of bright chandelier snippets
hang in the magic of metaphors
sparkling and splendid.
Its the tested and timid that write
in raw and ready lines
that sizzle along a page like the complete abandon
of a nubile maiden, unable to hide her beauty
behind any couture of class or crass
ready to be taken, as is!
I love reading all sorts of poems
and especially the ones that sing
from deep inside the poet
with abandon. I love them all. Write on.
Author Notes
Saying it as I feel it and know it! Just today there are exceptional poets at work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem