Words.

Words.

Words swim around my head

Inviting an invocative reaction

like blue birds dancing,

like magpies warbling,

like a cartoon image,

containing the essence of poetry:

a dash of wit,

a touch of

bespoken prowess.

Some words escape

some never expressed,

leaving me in a bloody mess.

Encapsulating,

Engulfing,

Enriching,

Enticing.

Just like the pirrouette of a ballerina,

moving and flowing,

sequins twinkling,

each tuft of her tule flowing,

sometimes fumbling

Only to recover.

Poems heal,

they are the embodiment

of my perplexing expressions,

brought to fruition

by a wave of confidence,

cognitive dissonance,

the banishment of hesitation,

.

It feels like a dream,

not at all real,

I remind myself

It's not a big deal,

If I could explain it,

It's like seeing colour

In a forlorn grey world,

each clash of the ocean's wave,

each colour of a neopolitan ice cream,

every petal of a flower; from aquamarine to honeycomb yellow.

To garner such beauty,

each reverend identity.

Maybe that's why I'm a loner,

Words are my escape,

ready to promulgate

and share with the world,

or to keep and never see the light of day.

Like a lost sullen deserted soul.

I'll keep fighting these anxieties,

I shant let them in.

my heart it beats to the sound of my own drum.

I'll keep the rhythm,

find my feet,

my poetic notes

just like my words,

are stuck on me

weild my pen

just like a sword,

like these words

are my shield.

SKW.