They’re sweet like
hiding in the bushes.
They’re the words
of mourning, when you get
a midnight phone call: “There was a crash…”
Words can be soothing,
a gentle caress of your cheek
just when you need it the most.
They’re lemon bitter, the hate words.
They jump down your throat and
like a lump,
no oxygen escaping and none slipping in,
threatening to bring tears to your eyes.
like a shadow
in the night,
slipping through the darkness without a trace of light.
They’re soft and swirly and light as a feather.
White cotton sheets,
rippling in the wind.
They’re bright and bubbly,
popping, like drops of golden sunlight
into your sun-kissed hair.
Fresh and pure as young pine, hiding
behind the old ones in the mystical forest.
Words are slick as a blade,
gliding across the ice.
tHey conjure and drEam and imagine
those siLly words.
They buiLd castles in the clOuds.
There are words that rhyme,
but not all the time.
Words are STIFF
Ridiculous. Illogical. Truthful.
Words are the center of the Earth,
the glue that holds her inhabitants together.
Without words, there would be no poems to write
or stories to speak.
No Way To Communicate.
Yet sometimes — when words are needed most…
is the time no words are spoken at all.