Sure it can if it were a heron
With tall words whose meaning
Spanned cultures and societies
When worded like butter spread
On bread slices for a yummy breakfast
When the honey sweet from the bee
Adds willingness to a teaspoon of medicine
Then the tranformation of images
To new ideas poems readers consciousness
Building castles no knight need to guard
The poet magically pulls the rabbit
Out from his hat with abra ca dabra
Words formed from syllables of dreams
No red wagons need have wheels
It's a poem wrought from a dream
And love can be courted yet not counted
For words are infinite to a poet's muse
The span of a butterfly's wing
The depth of a whale's dive
All of these measures a poem records
I love the tall words from the heron, sweetness of medicine, the whimsy of the red wagon and magic of words. Thank you Gillena. Have a good summer!
ReplyDeleteThanks for your appreciation, Grace
ReplyDeleteNo summer here, its the Rainy Season
Much live
Another classic poem!! I loved this one Gillena, your words felt left such a good taste in my brain...well done my friend! 🩵
ReplyDelete