I wake with a mind filled
With fugitive thoughts,
Quicksilver threads, like
Splinters of mirror-glass
I grope for things just out of reach-
At last, a phrase is caught
I explore its form
Learn its texture, shape and weight
I search out the proper frame
To put it on display
Select the words so the sense
Is echoed by their sound
Guiding the reader along
Through meanders, rapids, falls,
Ending in a still pool
Of quiet reflections
Part of the 6th poetry carnival hosted by Legwarmers.
5 comments:
Very nice. I particularly like the last stanza; it evokes that "splash of cold water" feeling I get when I read a great poem.
Here from the Carnival!
This is beautiful
Thank you
I like all the 'reverberating' imagery - (splinters of) 'mirror glass,' the 'echo' in stanza 3 and 'reflections' at the end, giving the sense of returning to and re-experiencing thoughts. Yes, poetry is like that!
How gently you handle this subject, as if it were a little bird. Nice.
Thanks- I wanted to emphasise the importance of craft as a method of communication rather than an obstacle.
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