Words are like pebbles. I weigh them in my hands
touching their surface; some egg smooth; some
rough; home spun. I must know them like old shoes
Remember the power of their first shy
kiss; full on the lips; how my heart fluttered
as I cast them out across the still lake of
paper. They fall where they will; a fresco
of sounds squeezed from my pen, scratched out and cast
out again, sending forth ripples as I
place them on the page. Some glow, like runes in
moonlight as they touch another; others
fade; sink to buff shade; a handful of dust
disappointment on the lips. Words are like
pebbles; they go where the river takes them


Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Yet more coursework - if you have the time I would apreciate your imput Looking forward to visiting you all soon Sue

9:46 PM  
Blogger Neel said...

Hi Sue, I am so happy to see you are still here. I have been terrible about blogging, but ready to get started again. I promise to have a new recipe up for you this week, any requests?

6:04 AM  
Blogger cocaine jesus said...

not much good at giving advice or critiques, just know that i like this. i like the idea of words being something given by nature. something outside of us that comes as gift.

11:23 AM  
Blogger Pat Paulk said...

The river of your pen smooths these words perfectly!!

12:07 AM  
Blogger Roger Stevens said...


Like the sounds and rhythm. Some good rhymes. The poem could work well arranged in a river's shape.

Beware of cliches... always a worry to me. heart fluttering? Bit greetings card.

Lips used twice?

Anyway - I like it.

Hope you're well. last school visit tomorrow and my marathon radio commitment coming to an end. A holiday soon and some writing.


9:07 PM  
Blogger GeL (Emerald Eyes) said...

Enjoyed reading this, fellow lover of words and art. Sorry I've not stopped by in a while. Somehow I'd lost your blog address. Just saw you listed on Gulnaz's blog, so I clicked. Glad to see you're still writing! :D

8:04 PM  

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