#365poems
Each dawn, a gift arrives unseen,
a syllable, a seed, a sheen.
From __Merriam-Webster’s__ careful keep,
to __Dictionary.com’s__ bright leap.
The __New York Times__ may whisper sly,
a word to tilt the reader’s eye.
While __Vocabulary Ninja__ strikes,
with stealthy terms and sudden spikes.
And __Britannica,__ sage and grand,
extends its lexiconic hand.
But I will not decide alone,
your voices shape the daily tone.
Select the source, cast votes with care,
the one most chosen will be there.
So I will rise, each day anew,
to shape a poem from what is true:
a word, a spark, a fleeting flame,
reborn in rhythm, breath, and name.
Three hundred sixty-five small rites,
inked in mornings, sung in nights.
A lexicon becomes my stage,
each page a prayer, each hush a page.
By year’s end, a woven tome,
a dictionary turned to home.
For every word, a verse, a song,
a daily vow to carry on.
Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 2:12 AM UTC