As I put my pen to paper
To write a poem, a story,
I see a multitude of words
In my mind’s eye.
They have various sizes and shapes
Short, long, pleasant, pungent
Serious, frivolous, hollow,
Pregnant with meaning, mere fillers too;
Some hide in corners
Some clamour for attention
Saying..I’m the right word,
Choose me, choose me!
I feel like the Chairperson
Of a Selection Committee
Whose choice has to be made,
Not only on individual merit,
But on their capability
To blend harmoniously
With their companions
So as to create a lovely mosaic,
A beautiful symphony.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I feel like the chairperson. Nice work.