I pause before attentive rows but leave without oration bereft of proper pastel prose to ply for presentation, perhaps I’ll go where nothing grows avoiding trepidation and nurture the organic throes of unabashed creation.
5 comments:
Anonymous
said...
Here from frauline's blog. This flows so smoothly in strong beats like music. Cool alliteration here" Proper pastel prose to ply for presentation, perhaps"
I also like your "organic,growing title." I'm very into playing with words
Hey sm, thanks for stopping by. I was riding my bike the other day and rested by a cornfield. When I left I wondered if they had strained their ears to hear something I may utter then looked at each other and said - so what? This of course left me wondering what to sow. Yes words are wonderful! Take care,
5 comments:
Here from frauline's blog.
This flows so smoothly in strong beats like music.
Cool alliteration here" Proper pastel prose to ply for presentation, perhaps"
I also like your "organic,growing title." I'm very into playing with words
Hey sm, thanks for stopping by. I was riding my bike the other day and rested by a cornfield. When I left I wondered if they had strained their ears to hear something I may utter then looked at each other and said - so what? This of course left me wondering what to sow. Yes words are wonderful! Take care,
Bob
I love the beat and rhythm of this poem; I could almost hear the drumbeat and guitar at the background.
Talking to corn again are you? I thought you were over that phase. ;) Great poem! I can just hear the cornfield saying "Go ahead, we're all ears!"
Hi Danny, I think it's the rhythm I get into when I'm pedalling away down the trail. Thanks for stopping by.
Hey Shirl, hopefully it's not too corny, awwww sorry had to do it 8^P
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