Wings of Poetry…

To poets, writing is the blood

that flows through the veins,

words the sinew of their being.


Creating the movement of the

body, finishing uplifts the soul,

failure not an option as the story

must be told.


The lines may read of sadness, of

stars hanging in the dark blue,

shivering in the distance, creating

against all resistance.


Waiting for the finished poem to

float in on a “Morning Doves” wings,

in perfection ones poetry must sing.






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19 thoughts on “Wings of Poetry…

  1. Pingback: Poetry | Roger's Writings

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