J Ann Crowder

An orchestrated dream of symohonic ink spills
Gliding feather flanked pens, like humming flute bellows
A mind’s generating seeds of color filled quills
Stamping notes on pale paper; the heart spun cellos
 
We are wordsmiths, beating life into breathless lines
Like airy tangos; metaphors promenading
Weaving a dream catcher’s thread; words of sacred twine
Thus soul fire silhouettes sweetly parading

Written November 14,2017.

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Nelson D Reyes
over 3 years

I suddenly was dancing the tango like a waltz. And amazingly my partner didn’t miss a step, fluidly was swaying with me! Superbly Beautiful quatrains! I wish I had one of those “color filled quills” when I was studying Architecture. Fave. Love. Thank you my dear friend poet Jenifer.

J Ann Crowder
J Ann Crowder
over 3 years

I'm glad it felt like a dance reading it. That was what I was aiming for. Thank you for the fav.

Robert L. Martin
over 3 years

Wow! as usual. beautiful. My feet are off the ground. I'm floating out into space and beating life into breathless lines.

J Ann Crowder
J Ann Crowder
over 3 years

Thank you! You have always done that with your poetry.

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Nelson D Reyes Robert L. Martin
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