I have words that flow like rivers,
words that breach the waterfall,
words that flood my page with colour,
and words that simply stall.
I have words of light and healing
words like angels of delight
and words of dark foreboding
ugly ogres of the night.
I have words that dance when spoken-
tarantellas on the tongue
and words that leave me tongue-tied
that always come out wrong.
I have words that blight and fluster
that only harvest weeds,
and words, despite their bluster,
generating more wholesome seeds.
I have words that wake my sleeping,
loudly shouting in the night -
dressing different with my rising
just a whisper in the light.
I have words that hold me captive
dungeoned shackles that degredate
and gentle caring gaolers,
releasing words, that liberate.
I have words so warm and tender
they make the heart palpate
they embrace you with their splendour -
words that punch above their weight.
I have words of self-importance,
I have words of little worth:
words that tower up to heaven,
words that tumble down to earth.
I have words I should have spoken
but they somehow atrophied,
while the words that came out, broken,
are the words that still abide.
There are words that need a sat-nav
to get you somewhere nice
and words that shouldn’t surface
if you’ll take my poor advice.