Posted by: Ron DuBour | May 26, 2016

Rich were my Words~by Norman Wilson



Rich were my Words

What prickly thrush wrestles in tone of my voice
Where covered ears uncover, by souls own choice
To heed my tale of hearts lovingly rendered
In splendour of voice spoken so soft and tender

Rich were each word swiftly drifting on the winds
Taking a new flight again on butterfly wings
As bodies greet loving arms wrapped in gentle squeeze
Never to release so freely in a summer breeze

So warm and wrapping was the sun’s ray
Where so rare a blustering trust unravels in the air
To attend to my words that I beseech each to hear
From open hearts where you and I dare to share

Bring hither your heart to beat in rhyme with mine
To the pendulum that swings in perfect time
To the glossy glow upon the windowpane
Where in breath of frost I spell out both our names

The low life of my ways have turned me in
My words are now fraying upon a turbulent wind
The butterfly no longer carries words still to hear
For the angst in my language, is weathered insincere

A knife to my heart now cuts through my words
Piercing every syllable that dribbles in verse
To the writings of our name on the windowpane
As our love for one another is all but cursed

All rights reserved -5/14/16
Norman Francis

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