A midsummer night
in my sentiment my muse arose
depositing poetry at task,
with way of pen—
my contemplation obtaining shape,
my face against the wind,
my essence engaging in words realigning,
together with stillness of reason
and spirit unconfined,
mysterious language assembling,
selected in the same way as a trusted friend,
with my muse, I write.
wow
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Reblogged this on Kathleen's Writings.
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Beautifully written, I especially like your use of the anthropomorphism of ‘pen’.
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thank you 🙂
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