Is every book filled with poetry?
Is every poem written, a poem?
Why aren't books published with a few blank pages in the midst of all those words. Not the end pages.
Is every meal, a meal? And memorable?
Today, the sun is in full-force; here an unlikely event. The meal, shared, will be good and the words, if not a poem, at least will down-to-earth and savory.
what most at time doth the mind bend into body
ReplyDelete'twill and beckon our dearest aires
yer and the warmth next to ye
alter not our faith beguile
one hearth, then another
my fire fed by that not burnt