Poetry is word-music
Word, word music.
Is soul, spirit, magical mystery
Quintessential essence
Of love and beauty.
Iambic and other rhythms and rhymes
Are optional
For, again, poetry is soul.
The Word is King.
Any word.
Tit
A singular word of double meaning:
Lickle bird and nipple
No waxing lyrical here
Just a bit of lit that’s bound to fit
Uninterrupted
Brief word
Amongst sesquipedalian articulations
And rapturous birdsong that echoes through the forests.
So leave that doggerel alone.
Let your heart sing
Freely
Your spirit and soul
Shining like a supernova
Resonating through our minds.
A concerto of verbal sounds
Played with our inner voices.
Literary art
Expressed in musical notes.
Poetry.
Paul Butters
© PB 22\5\2024.
