The silky strings of empathic poetry
wind thier way through my mind to my fingertips,
In turn each caress hums electricity
and glowing reverberated letters form
the beauty of eloquence reserved for greats, restrained.
Instead the satin pearls lay sprawled
gathered with elcectric tweed and tied with pixel yarn
with clunky pebbles inbetween ,
the pearls calling to each other
to dance together on the electric string,
and the pebbles beg for polish
in order for thier beauty to sing.
I however,will not.
For they are eloquence and beauty to me,
and are as my creative souls expression
faultless in the delivery of my first truth,
in all art born of soul and heart
simply
elegantly evocative in the highest perfection
of the electrons clumsily,
imperfectly formed birth of
inspirations.