Sunday, April 30, 2017


Apologies for taking so long to do a post

Word come small in the beginning
Grains, gleans and germination
And like some implausible queens
We lay in our chambered nests
Gloriously building a fantastic crèche
Nurseries of word productiveness
To raise our potent larval scripts
But time will not allow us to keep...
All the infants of prose we cherish
We have hatched too many words
They become a plague upon opinion
That rattles on crowded, cerebral combs
Soaring thoughts that buzz and dance
Pressed together tight in rows of chaos
They cannot all live here together
They are so many
And so they come to divide
They swarm in the hive mind
And briefly, ere they leave, see them all...
Our last glimpse of honeyed wisdom
And then a mind splits its memories
And which memories exit
Fly into the white paper skies
As lay a kiss of grace upon compassion
And those which stay to be evergreen
Ah, that is the question
That only time will tell later
When all my best stories are left untold