Point Taken Poem by Richard Phipps

Stones skippin' softly 'cross the waves of my heart.
Tongue-twisted mind, just don't know where to start.

Sitting still in the dark, sippin' liquid delight.
Tryin' way, way too hard, to get these words right.

Lockets of thoughts all lined in a row.
I think of you often, much more than you know.

Surprising to think I might worry 'bout you,
but really it isn't, it's all that I do.

Twisting these words 'till they cry out in pain.
Worrying 'bout you nearly drives me insane.

Wonderin' how long 'fore I get these words right.
Mincing of terms, trying hard not to slight.

Pockets of thoughts, so evenly sewn.
How fond we of each other, may never be known.

The further we are, the fonder we feel.
The nearer we were, the less might appeal.

But wouldn't it cheer, to have someone so near,
You could hope to entrust, deepest thoughts, oh so dear?

The night is still dark, delight nearly gone,
and not nearly described, is the point to this yarn.

The pillow is talking, it's point so well taken.
Though I'll not see you soon, let's not be mistaken,

Remember this point:

All's not to be forsaken.

February 6,2003