Letters to You, Poem, Poetry

For My Pen, Running Low

So my pen’s running low
on its lively blood’s flow
and I wonder to where
its spirit may go

Has it had a good life
expressing our thought?
Is it happy with all of the
stories we’ve wrought?

I thank you, my friend;
may we see us again
in a land where
the writer’s on par
with the pen.

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Poetry

Rocket Poem

I,
So
wound
around
a spine
of mine,
it bound
in time –
a rhyme
confound
the arcs,
unknown
with sight
or sound;
Might Mortal
flight and feathers
fall swift lift me low
To common Ground
and
will me
whither
I go
!!


Words hammered into kind of the shape of a rocket ship, in the curious name of science.

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