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, May 9, 2011

The Sometimes Song: Poem


The Sometimes Song

Wait a while. The mind's confusion and slow steps
May quicken: when the sun comes out from hiding
And weariness itself wearily walks itself away.

Then, sometimes, in the silence of the stars
I can hear your voice. I can hear and taste and see
The years that brought me to this misery.
Sometimes, when familiar streets come my way
Or I come to them, anyway
What I really am trying to say

Sometimes, the softness of those instants
Comes back to me: the intent, the ideas
The emotions and the inspiration
That still remain with me. If you had been,
Sometimes, near me

Things would have been different.
These unfamiliar conceptions of destiny
That life brought to my door would have dissolved
Like the morning mist: sunshine-kissed.

I, in this sometimes moody musing, ask you to listen to this

Solitary sometimes song.

Copyright: Rani Turton

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