A thirsty dream

 I bumped my head upon a dream and poems fell right out

The words of dust did scream and with thirst began to shout

With no meter to drink, the outer rhyme began to peel

and from word`s dry ink time made a meal

Eating letters one by one, with the sauce of emotion

allegory served on a bun dipped in a free verse or rhymed potion

Bones of metaphor on the plate, minutes spat out sprouting seeds

and from garbage it did create a garden full of poetic weeds

Reviews

[Marie]

Wow! A truly amazing write on creating a beautiful poem. There are no poetic weeds in Soren's garden! Great play with words, visual detail is superb and I love the smooth and easy flow of the poem. Eloquently expressed in magical metaphor! I love this poem, Soren! It is a very articulate poem from your poetic pen. Thank you for sharing, dear friend...

[Soren]

Thank you somuch Marie you are too kind. We all have weeds we need to pull from time to time my garden is no different You are so kind not to notice them.

[Marie]

Most welcome, Soren. I couldn't notice them because there are never any weeds in your beautiful garden, dear friend...