I wander in the wonderland of words
where sounds can rhapsodize an inner flight
and seek to sing like skylark midst the birds.
To feel a lyric line is ringing right
that rose unknowingly from secret source
can send my senses soaring with delight.
What guides the reasoned rhyme's creative course?
the urging of an enigmatic muse?
or might it be a fundamental force?
The words may dance or promenade in twos,
at times leap forth as in a lightning flash,
or shower phrases in prismatic hues…
When glimmers come but embers turn to ash,
there are no syllables with tongues of flame
nor tones that thunder like a cymbals' clash.
Then I despair and falter in my aim
of catching rainbows in a verse's net
and cry I should forsake the poet's game.
Still oft before the dying sun has set
arises hint of inspiration's spark
albeit faintest flickering, and yet
from out of what had seemed a moonless dark
is heard the distant music of a lark…
Wonderland has kept many wonderful words and we really get wonder hearing about these. To feel the lyric line we are eager really. Distant music of a lark is above the head. An Amazing poem is brilliantly penned.
I appreciate your comment affirming that my poem has conveyed a sense of wonder. Thank you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem! Can I say white in wonderland instead of Alice in Wonderland? (Ha!) Great piece of art about poetry itself. In fact using art to express admiration for art is simply artistic art. I like the rhymes and the diction. Fantastic metaphors and wonderful imagery. Keep it up!
What a delightful comment! Yes, indeed I was romping in a word wonderland, with my first poem in terza rima. So glad you enjoyed it! Thanks so much for reading it expressing your reaction!