Too many words muddle the poet’s page.
Golden rhymes, and meter schemes beguile
the senses, alluring words, but are we sage?
Ethereal concepts one by one we file,
but do we stop to see, and sieve the dream,
distinguish between truth, and fancies’ will,
hit its value quick to extract what it means,
or do we rhyme our tunes to suit our thrill?
Words, poet, faster than hot racing shells
will penetrate the eye, the heart, and mind,
and destroy all that in the spirit dwells.
Let our rhyme be sage, not deft, but kind.
Too many words, poet; the muse we blame,
so next time, when it speaks, ask for its name.
Carmen Ruggero .2004 & 2005 & 2006
Peace,
Carolyn
Regis
God bless,
sandie.
Paul;-)
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Oh I know i always talk too much...lol!!
Love Tinka
If only I could apply your wisdom, when I write. I'll save this and keep it on my desktop;-) Brilliant work poet!
Eileen
You articulate it eloquently in this superb composition !
I concur with Cynth'ya below, this pen is in the upper echelons of your labours !
Peter
blessin's and love to you, this is one of the best ones you've written that I've observed. Preach on Sistah Poet!
cynth'ya
Enjoyed the poem very much indeed. - shoma