With every sound
and each word uttered
there is pause,
as if waiting for the touch
of a lover – distant still,
but out there.
Until such time,
words float as poetry
until caught and lightly wrought
on cool staves,
and as they stir,
no tone is forced, harsh
and breathy –
they wait and would wait
as every song, like love,
until it hears its own echo.
Poetry dances me,
with its incorrigible vice.
In the beauty of silence
naked jawbones crack
a fleshless shudder.
Torrid words smirk,
as they fall into your walnut air
in small pieces.
Particles, heavy of scent,
from my mouth
into this silence –
silence is the page we write on –
dance with me.
Picture: Oharo koson
Fragrant rose petals pouring
Day 130/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
In a chamber of echoes
Its voice goes unheard
Day 117/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
Listen to silence
Speak when the need moves our hearts
Hear the words of peace
Day 99/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
deep within where silence stirs
winter’s raw fragrance
Day 86/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
Just wondering at the miracle called LIFE .
Author River Dixon
poetry by Robert Ford
Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.
In the end all you want is a pen that writes well and a life that you've lived well...
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At Least Trying Too
Tigers not daughters
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
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Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
where thoughts go to die and be reborn as poetry
Advice, challenges, poetry and prose