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…”
Thank you my friend. Ann
a very beautiful poem was published – ” Wings of Poetry ” – really not easy to strech and fly in the sky as depicated in your poem
I have to say thanks
Thank you for the reblog. Ann
Reblogged this on aksharaalu – Best Collections.
Thank you so much for the reblog, I am grateful. Ann
my breath is poetry,
It is not that we want to write…it is because we have too. Ann
i love to write ann, my life to write..
its nice to meet u ann, and am sorry i not often to comment.
Thank you for stopping by Johnny and the comment. Ann
This is so true, our aspirations and hopes for our poetry, “…in perfection”
Thank you Robert, I enjoy your work. Ann
Lovely and thought provoking poem, Ann. Thank you for your encouragement in liking some of my poems. Best wishes for e-books.
Thank you and for following. Ann
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AS a fellow poet, I adore this one!
Thank you so much. Ann
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