Out of reach

i'm growing tired of writing,
but not for writings sake
just the printed words
are making my wasting mistake

simple rhythms fall their course
rhymes of course fall in time
each flow, you know from head to toe
stepping forward as one falls behind

i love the steps
each grain of sand adding to the beach
each head to rest upon that nature
puts this beauty that much farther out to reach

metaphors can twist and turn
similes tend to contrast 
writings, most lay forlorn
and when recognized,
their meaning,
just out of grasp

 

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