I cried those words,
into puddling paragraphs,
just spilling sentences,
tripping on my tongue,
into rapidly coursing chapters,
pulsating pages,
fast moving meter,
in rivers of rhymes,
stacks of biblical books,
etched in my mind,
carved by hand,
on my life's headstone,
made of bethel gray granite,
to read : Here lies a poet.
Ma Cherie © 2017
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 10:47 AM UTC
I cried those words,
into puddling paragraphs,
just spilling sentences,
tripping on my tongue,
into rapidly coursing chapters,
pulsating pages,
fast moving meter,
in rivers of rhymes,
stacks of biblical books,
etched in my mind,
carved by hand,
on my life's headstone,
made of bethel gray granite,
to read : Here lies a poet.
Ma Cherie © 2017
