Love, Writ Purple

'another bard-ful morning'

When are words
merely words, stripped

of any meaning-

full intent? When

does the language of love

become nothing more than

an exercise

for the poet's pen to sketch

his art full prowess

over reason? When,

the heart turns from
genuine wonder
of endocrinal secretions

to the tired tropes of heart-

hard laureates of commerce

words then whither

for want of

any purpose-full intention.

Ken e Bujold

© 2022

Reviews

[W. Barrett Munn]

So, true, my friend. It is easy to spot the heartless forgery-it's in crayon instead of oil paints.

Winston

[Ken e Bujold]

this one was pulled from my own self criticism of several fragments that I dumped into the dustbin of verbiage. Some artful tricks in them but essentially meaningless which got me thinking about Love poems in general, and what distinguishes a genuine from a poser..and voila! A worthwhile thought emerged
Ken

[W. Barrett Munn]

Skill is fine. Greatness is skill mixed with truth.
Winston