~
were there a perfect way
where every word might
have its own say,
written sparingly, with
little waste,
considered, careful, not
put down in haste,
a message crafted and
clearly writ, that few
could fail to understand
it’s wit, the words
like music played to
gently hold a heart
in joyful celebration of
the poet’s art, anon
when all is said and done,
it must find its place with
other words finely spun,
*
© Graham R Sherwood 6/26
grahamrichardsherwood.co.uk 