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Poetry

by Delilah Coyne

Strings of eloquence tied in lovely bows.
Budding blooms of vivid words in rows.
Diamond rings of endless golden prose.

Words that lilt and sway in perfect time.
Beauty in the words that might not rhyme.
A verse may make the heart begin to climb.

What can compare to words that fit just right?
When a line or stanza sweeps you in its flight!
The written word- My heart and soul's delight!


...Trite?

12/03/2005

Author's Note: Blah! Blah! Blah! A few of these lines, I love, but some I hate.

Posted on 12/03/2005
Copyright © 2024 Delilah Coyne

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Ashok Sharda on 04/15/06 at 02:32 AM

Well, this speaks when it speaks, when we are connected, within.

Posted by Rula Shin on 04/21/06 at 09:09 PM

Yes, and how the qualities and matrix of colors and shades and meanings do shift and change with the change of an observer as each layer of awareness will reveal a meaning all on its own. Indeed, art is defined and will speak to whomever is present before it.

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