dreaming words

I dream words with pen in hand
draping pages with lores grande
memoirs spill, fluid, raw
gracing moments bourgeois.

I drift in rhapsody of radiance
like an oracle, words nestle eloquence
blending an effulgent infusion
lines of pulsating passion.

words embellish blossoming poesy
quivering a vibrant empathy
heart beats a mystical ditty
restless contemplations set free.

I hear the octave of a faltering note
lingering on sensibilities beaut
words twirl , melt, into a sunset
to rendezvous into dawn's croquette

Like a mouthpiece of my heart - my poetry
A flagbearer setting my spirit free

61 thoughts on “dreaming words

  1. This is breathtaking poetry, Yassy. Another masterpiece detailing how the poetess herself writes, dreaming awake with pen in hand, and now displayed in this literary Louvre you have created. Simply gorgeous, my friend.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I was going to Reblog the previous and somehow said to J: why not read quickly another? You can zip right through it and then go reblog…and now I have both so to do…and I was thinking this thing called Yassy-promise is my typer-fingers way of saying: not so slow, mister! We synapses are in control and We Want More! And so (hiding a smile) I bend and beck to a ‘nother scroll.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re gonna ruin an expensively crafted reputation with those crass, calumnies, lady! But, since its ONLY* you, I surrender and say thank you, Majesty!

        * (AS if you could be an Only in all but this context: One And Only! Reading you makes me sometimes think I one day may sing. And I’ve heard me!

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Foul, ribald rugby verse, possibly. I have been told the gravel I use by the bucket load to soften my voice all have left for the Canadian Tundra to avoid contamination. I do, however, get those: I know that song moments by note two or three and scarily sometimes one with my late junior high-and just after high school rock-n-roll (1961-67) but I like too many people around here so to subject them to my dulcet tones. Richwrapper’s voice has a hole in its pocket, Yassy, and thus poor remains.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Well, Calliope. I know that I am gone but man you wrote all these. I am still slowly reading so bear with me.
    I wonder if the poetry creates you, or you create poetry. Food for thought. (P. S. my Site is deleted, but for some weird reason if I enter my email my old name still lingers. I will start my site in next three weeks, if health permits). Take care.

    Liked by 1 person

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