Could We, Mere Words...


o poet fair, could we, mere words,
be your truth of spirit, your mirrored
reflection, splash of wisdom on tongue

and blush of passion painted on blank
canvas.  Could you but breathe us
within each whisper of time, each sigh

of contentment, grant us life spilling
your parchment dreams.  Sweet poet,
will you remember the secret of our

worth or the power wielded in simplicity
of thought, the cost of misuse,
paid with broken souls and wounded

hearts.  Are we the embers of rhyme,
unwritten sonnets, silent prose, needing
but one touch, one drop of forgotten ink,

to flame and burn, to be born into your
gifted hands and become scattered ash
of immortality.  Could we be your

gentle voice and passionate song, your
bold colors and your black and white,
quiet beginnings and timeless journeys...

o poet fair, could we, mere words, be
your passion, your truth, your sweet
reflection.  Could we be you?