POETRY ON MEDIUM
I Wish I Were the Verse of a Poet
I wish I were the verse of a poet
He would dress me in his thoughts
Once, dusted, sculpted, and polished
He would toss me somewhere in the
Musky letters of creamy envelopes
He would paint me with silver syllables
Neath the folds of silky metaphors
No matter how bewildered he looked
Still on his cushiony lashes, would he hook
Fairly, safely only me like a misty pearl
He would untangle me curl by curl
To quieten my inner storms and their swirls
Even if his chest tightened with weariness
While walking on the long lines of life
He would not allow stabbing silence
to ripple away my ethereal essence
A million times, carefully, caressingly he
Would plant me in the garden of vowels
Consonants and unscrambled words
Or in the struck, plucked or bowed
Strings of various musical notes
He would preserve me in the treasure trove
Of his heart, where no grammar’s grove
Can steal any of my flowers and roots
I would always be in his hands unharmed
He will place me near cataracts, flamingos
Petals, feathers, and poetry
I wish I were the verse of a poet
He would dress me in his thoughts
