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


Saturday, February 5, 2011

Life in Pastel: Poem


Life In Pastel

I think and often imagine
Even in scorched dreams
Myself and life as it seems;
As it seems, seems, seems.

I have a tenuous grip on reality
A self-made functional mode.
I think I have some aspects of alterity;
I can think in colours unrefined.

Pastel, refined, softspoken,
Colours that were not mine;
I can speak in languages
That are  often tough and fine.

I can think in pastel
Speak in pastel and subdued
My life, often in colours bright
To this  has now been reduced.

I have a life in pastel but inside
I have emotion bright and strong
I can think in pastel but emotion
Remains vivid and lifelong.

Life, filaments of life, in muted hues,
Is thus what it amounts to:
Live softly, there is yet a vivid dream
That I am driven to pursue.

Copyright: Rani Turton

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