(This was a spontaneous write to one of the poets at poetrypoem.com, and they returned it to me saying I should not be so free to gift my poetry to others. Yet! the gift of words is what a poet does, for anything else would be to tarnish the gift of which God granted us.)
I hear the shimmer of thoughts
voicing whispers upon the wind
I taste the spice of thought
that creates a story to spun.
No color does it harbor
for the tales are sweetly bound
Within the cyber fingers
of the chat room I have found.
A taste of personality
mixed with thoughts in kind
Little bits of emotion
that put forth just like wine.
The wine it tingles our senses
to feel free of all constraints
For now we see each others as equals
without prejudice as a complaint.
No word of derogatory nature
to spell our life to be
For we are the translucent messengers
that travel the universal sea.
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celestialeternity
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poet5170).setAttribute('href','//poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?sitename=marpor1&item=home');document['poetimage'].height='45';document['poetimage'].src='//poetrypoem.com/photos/poets/marpor1-button.jpg';;WriteLayer('ptitle',null,'‘’ No, There’s No Right Of Appeal ‘’');WriteLayer('ppoem',null,'Our creators are annoyed, They’ll soon be here, As above the planet they hove<a href="//poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?poemnumber=1350212&displaypoem=t&sitename=marpor1&item=poetry" target="_top" style="text-decoration:none;"><font style="color: #18397C;font: 900 12px times;"> ... More</font></a>');WriteLayer('poetinfocus',null,'marpor1');WriteLayer('pdate',null,'2024-04-26')){kind=small}
marpor1
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