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Thoughts inflame as feelings stir Words simmering yet to boil Unspoken sparks drift through the night A pyre still to burn Delphian in its natural form The smoke a treacherous friend Ink rekindles and lies cremate The mind, its woods on fire As heat restores the human soul All prodigals return With hope to melt the frozen dawn, —and free the poet’s hand The verses stack and dry of doubt Their ignition up to you As dark they wait for your next breath To light the spoken air (Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)
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Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
To Light The Spoken Air
Thoughts inflame as feelings stir Words simmering yet to boil Unspoken sparks drift through the night A pyre still to burn Delphian in its natural form The smoke a treacherous friend Ink rekindles and lies cremate The mind, its woods on fire As heat restores the human soul All prodigals return With hope to melt the frozen dawn, —and free the poet’s hand The verses stack and dry of doubt Their ignition up to you As dark they wait for your next breath To light the spoken air (Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2016)
kurt-philip-behm
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Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
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