*Somehow the month of March silenced my Muse. But April is National Poetry Month…so to shake her up a bit, I am sharing a poem from long ago. Wishing you sweet inspiration always!*

Becoming Poetical

these words that come with ebb and flow will come

regardless of the time their whispered rhyme

incessantly invades and so sublime

of purpose that the hearer must succumb

succumb to wearing rhythms that would numb

a metronome to talk at dinnertime

befuddled by clang-clanging chime

of syllables whose drum

ignites imagination sounding words

internally that would contrive

a sense spontaneous

succumbing is becoming hummingbirds

may wish to jive

but swing within beats all extraneous