The title wave that is I,
rages upon chaotic Sea’s.

Winds blow as my thoughts grow
with each passing wave,
bobbing on the wake of the
turbulent Sea I suffer as the
Sea bow’s to me.

Lost to Sea’s of poetry.

Waning is my moon, as the stars
pay no mind to the dusty old rock
as they pass by my relic mind.

I draw with words, a painting
riddled with rhyme and
lacks space and time,
yet grabs your mind like
a spider waiting in the corner.

You my fly I the spider, with my
web of expressions I tightly winde
and softy stroke your imagination.

My fingers wrap around your heart
as I play the strings, I can imagine
its beat like a throbbing drum.

Such beauty is in my creative mind.

Fallen words of mine, a poet by
design.

My wings open, and my soul flies
as my expression release’s a poetic
extension.

Its my wings of expression
that helps me fly.

Ode to my poet, may she bleed her ink and learn to fly.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton