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


Monday, November 29, 2010

Today, As Always: Poem


TODAY, AS ALWAYS

Today, as always and as often before
Dreading the light that falls on my face
The fingers that fumble and won’t find
Yesterday, today and tonight.

Worse than the morrow
Is the memory of sorrow
To know at the end of each day
That emotion has flown away.

O desultory rhyme. Time after time
I tried, the paradox of living and forgiving
I can try each day. Each morning the sun
Will rise, will slide, will set

Morning and mourning. The surprise
The yearning, the knowing
Today, as always at sunrise.

Copyright: Rani Turton

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