Aisle

I'll chew my words

Mince them into a soft sponge 

Cleanse the red rage of pique

Return them eclair

I'll find my feet

Rotate along the axes

Slice through the ladder of fatigue

Meet at the Summit where the points meet

I'll get my spark

Learn to sharpen my bow

Steer the ship with my intuition

Brainstorm ideas for my arrow

I'll locate my voice

Journal the sea of musings in lead

Take a stand against worrisome doubts

Sever the chain to grasp freedom 

I'll fix my puzzle

Grind the mould into number

Catalogue the pieces of fresh lavender

Rid myself of the deadening sensation

No way will my mouth quiver

Only dreams have beguiled

Long awaited the day when

I'll walk down the Aisle.