Word-Thought
Trail your hand down my spine,
Draw my inky veins,
Speak your wavering rhyme.
Enthralled by my line,
Entranced by the ages,
Enticed by the visage of time.
Young and Old,
Spoke and Read,
New and Bold.
Passion malign
Or dismissed,
I must mime.
All creatures devine,
All beasts of matter,
Each subject in it's prime.
Forgotten and Lost,
Written and Thought,
Deep and Glossed.
I list gracefully,
I dance flowingly,
for I am poetry.