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.
Are You Reading Me?
Are You Reading Me?
Here from frauline's blog.
ReplyDeleteThis 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,
ReplyDeleteBob
I love the beat and rhythm of this poem; I could almost hear the drumbeat and guitar at the background.
ReplyDeleteTalking 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!"
ReplyDeleteHi Danny, I think it's the rhythm I get into when I'm pedalling away down the trail. Thanks for stopping by.
ReplyDeleteHey Shirl, hopefully it's not too corny, awwww sorry had to do it 8^P