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The cool thing about being a poet is
a single word, a passing thought,
a wondering,
can suddenly turn into a poem.
It's like, you're sitting at your desk,
sipping tea, so mundane,
nothing at all going on,
and suddenly someone
scotch-tapes
some wings on you.
smiles...i would take scotch tape wings any day...ha...and yes it is just like that.
ReplyDeletethese are the wings of epiphany. a poets muse
ReplyDelete:-)
What a lovely comparison, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteExcellent! If that doesn't communicate, what will? But remember, the wings have to work.
ReplyDeleteSherry, this is wonderfully expressed indeed!
ReplyDeleteabsolutely right! when I sit down to write, I am in the air and I'm just soaring!
ReplyDeleteSo true, Sherry!
ReplyDelete...and you make those wings part of your Self and fly directly into poetry. Yum!
ReplyDeleteThat is just how it is. When I began to write, I wrote to find out what I was thinking...and I guess I still do. I sit down to write, and it seems I am not thinking anything...and suddenly the words have arranged themselves and have something to say, something I didn't even know I knew....wings....
ReplyDeleteFor sure - wings is what words are.. Yes this is how it feels sometimes.
ReplyDeleteThis is a great metaphor, Sherry! Tese wings do allow us to soar.
ReplyDeleteHi Sherry. Just read a bunch of your poems I missed . Loved them all and realize how much I miss you and your wise woman perspective. I'll resume blogging soon. Have been moving - packing, unpacking. My bones hurt. Am resting a little. Hope you're well.
ReplyDeleteVery cool. What an image!
ReplyDeletebrilliant conceit. I could use some wings, scotch-tape or otherwise - words have escaped me, of late ~
ReplyDelete