Hourglass

Folder: 
Writers Block

 

Words left unspoken,

Carefully printed

On thick sheets of paper,

Perhaps even handwritten

In cursive, filling up

Journals and notebooks,

Precisely picked prose,

Ponderously playful, 

All Poetry.

 

Meanings are measured

In meter and rhyme,

Twisting and drifting

Throughout sands of time,

Trickling down into the

Gilded hourglass

That sits broken on 

A dusty shelf,

Spilling it's wealth

Onto old wooden floors,

That creak from the weight

Of our

Footsteps.

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allets's picture

POET poet

Poet as a verb works here. It is rare that I find a writer who can do art so well as you. Stay with us and be inspiration - Loved the alliteration - most finely brought into the world from the mind of the poet . All yes! ~Lady A~

 

 

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Lady A

 

ReilaMorello's picture

Thank you!

I am honored, and I don't plan on leaving. =)