Wednesday, February 18, 2015


image from google dot com

Sometimes, loneliness throws a curve ball,
In an inning, to send a player running,
Running for the catch;
But there is a stumble, and a very near miss,
Excitement applauds the relish of such,
A lovely stroke;
Ending in solitude, for that's where the striker,
Who really is a griot, of sorts, wanted to take
The story line;
Out of the field of grassy abandonment, and,
Into an undefined space, of fresh new dreams,
called creativity's sphere.
© gillena cox

Written in response to the prompt at Poetry Jam 'Loneliness / Solitude'