Words put away like wine,
ferment not in the bottle but in the mind.
Seething soundless in the dark,
unseen bubbles leave no mark.
Until the day they are called forth,
and are poured, then swirled upon the tongue.
Sparking reminiscence or remorse,
burgundy thoughts of songs not sung.
Words put away like wine
not decanted in good time,
miss the mark of proper tongue,
vinegar thoughts of hearts not won.
Words put away like wine,
ferment not in the bottle,
but in the mind.
(Roslindale March 2005)
words are like wind...............blowing you to darkness and brightness...........
Quite a unique and effective metaphor. I like this poem very much thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very moving and from a poet of merit