Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Traveler Of Both Time And Space

Like rice-paper that melts
At the slightest touch of
A tongue,
And bows that unravel
When the right strings
Are strung,
Shadows that live
While the sun seeks to die-
I hunt for the right chances
And the right words
That I ought to write.

The words I ought to write
Might not be mighty enough,
Other poets might write poems
That are made of sterner stuff,
But I promise to make
Your reading worth the while
And for you to end each reading
With a happy thought and a smile.
For isn't that the greatness
Of the written word and of ink-
I can reach you without any knowledge
Of your joy or suffering.

You might smile or you may cry,
Or remember a long forgotten day,
But for a second your worries vanish
And you think solely of what I say.
Life is long and it's all yours,
It's all yours to seize and own-
You'll always have words for company
Even when you are alone.

No comments:

Post a Comment