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From your sweet love, dear,
Which, like a swift, sharp spear,
pierces a young deer.
I am the segment you use,
The brain behind your muse.
I make parallel lines fuse
And set every bottleneck loose.
I hold the sceptre of a Lord.
I give wit, wealth and word,
Am keener than a sharp sword,
More flexible than a boneless cord.
I am your true soulmate.
I give you words to relate,
Your deep passion for love or hate,
Ever with you in any state.
I give inanimate objects a voice
To speak for or against a vice.
With my power, I melt frozen ice,
I lead men to the right choice.
I voyage men to places far and nigh,
Even beyond the sky so high
From where they sit or lie,
For I am poetry, I never die.
Finalist of the Brigitte Poirson Poetry Contest (BPPC), July 2018
Shortlisted for the Albert Jungers Poetry Prize (AJPP) 2018
Published in the BPPC 2018 Anthology — CITADEL OF WORDS
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