ARTISAN OF WORDS


I am an artisan of words
Which I sculpt, chisel and fashion the way I can;
I am a creator of worlds;
I pour my emotion into the poems I write.
I breathe life into them, blow them skywards
And finish them only when they sound right.

These remnants of thought without reason
Will remain on pages season after season
Long after I'm gone; when my task is done
The love, the longing, the pain
Will be evoked then by somebody else
Who in turn will remember and write again
To create another slow soft song
That people can read and draw into their hearts
Then pillowed by words, cushioned by dreams
My poems will ride high the moonbeams.


Copyright: Rani Turton 2007


Thursday, October 9, 2008

MAMAN by Indrani


MAMAN by Indrani, at 7 years.

I have often been amazed by the beauty of children's art. What is that enables children to cut out the details and get down to the essentials? I don't know if I have the heart-shaped face and lovely pouting red mouth of this dream lady, or the dreamy eyes, which I doubt, but that is the vision that somebody had of me!
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