Words trip down the page…

Healing the hurt of an age,

Poetry above all can save,

The brokenhearted brave.


Whether its that song,

Or a quote from bygones,

Those words, that saying,

The melody of  piano playing,

Poetry in all its forms,

Sweet solace, glory-born.

The passing of peace,

From each-to-each.


Rejoice in the soothing,

The delicious oozing,

Of unctuous words musing

The thrills of our choosing.

© K.N.Liddington




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