PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There is a place within me

where naked truths await

expression.

There is a spindle crying

to be unwound.

There is a song surpassing

all songs, yet unsung.

There is a vapored mist

where silence is enthroned

but for the echoes of

familiar celtic chants.



My poetry cannot mend

my life, but I can gather

the words unto myself,

as one would cling

to a newborn baby

at childbirth.

The naked truths within

me rule my pen.

It is the penalty for

my passion.



The years have

sobered me.

I rise from the sleep

without fear.

I am reborn, and

my soul is restless.

I want to write

truthfully of

loves and passions

I have known,

which now seem like

the most natural things

in my world.



Like a hymnody

after the sunset,

I will bare my soul

with a psalm of words;

lying naked in the wind,

I will wait for the warm foam

to embrace me, for

the tide to go out.