Behind the rhymes of my December
was a beautiful voice that sung
Lullabies of hope and healing,
An enticing tune that flung.
As he strums, the heavens were envious
When he hums, the storms were stopped
There's nothing in me he never stitched,
Nothing in life I could ever switch.
But the fireworks of January blasted,
The words were sweet until it lasted
The muse that once triggered the rhymes
Is now a memory I'd toss in fire.
You were February then it was early spring,
Once again, you awakened the words within,
Hands may not be linked by tangible strings
But content is my soul for the warmth you bring.
A Muse After Another 02/20/22 11:21 PM
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kinesus: a poetry collection
PoésieWords, how I love them, especially when my heart weaves them into verses that mirror facets of life, most I have worn and seen, some I merely envision. Regardless, the words brought me here, the same way it brought you to me. This is kinesus, a coll...
