A poem begins with a single thought
whispered in the ear
Of a poet small
In a place remote
In a voice serene and clear.
The muse who shares the thought might be
a memory that glows,
from the distant past
or just yesterday.
Like the fragrance of a rose.
The language spoken by the muse might be
any dialect on earth.
The voice may not be audible
or it may resound
with a message of great worth.
No decibel meter readout required,
and no need for volume control.
There is only a gentle whisper
To the poet's receptive soul.
About the Creator
Linda Rivenbark
I believe in the magic of words, love, and tenacity. There is a world out there that needs to be explored, researched, and written out to try to make some sense of it, and to make a better place for the children of tomorrow.
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Comments (1)
Previously hearted!!!