Yellow pad lined
in pale, horizontal
blue,
empty with the tint of
air, awaits a
word or
two, perhaps three.
Pen, filled with
inky black, like dried
blood,
hovers in rose-blush hope
to midwife a
word or
two, perhaps three.
Word, awaiting a
birth, the color of
light,
Flows from the heart; a
word or
two, perhaps three,
fit for a yellow pad.
There is nothing I love more than an empty yellow legal pad. Honestly! I feel this rush of excitement when I see one...
ReplyDeleteLove this Glynn!
This is quite lyrical, Glynn. I'm glad these words found their place on your pad.
ReplyDeletea soul
ReplyDeletemade for word
alive
flowing from Love
listens for
a word of light
or two
perhaps three
words awaiting birth ... sometimes slow in the transition
ReplyDeleteglynn more than anything the structure of this poem spoke to me of birth.
ReplyDeleteyou have structured it like a birthing canal and this is more beuatiful than the poetry itself which is outstanding.
the first words out of my mouth after reading were: "yes"
and then i smelt the yellow, aged paper.
"Midwife a word"...oh my, oh my. Soulish man.
ReplyDeleteyes! i could fill a whole yellow legal pad with thoughts of how much i love yellow legal pads...
ReplyDelete*grin*
ReplyDeleteYes, that's really about what I felt when I posted last night. Love it. I just love it.
Yum. I really like this. :)
ReplyDeleteNice flow, nice images.
ReplyDeleteoh exactly. Love this.
ReplyDelete