Such practice takes course

As I riddle and more

Through a stream of words

I find the ones and verbs

That magically find themselves

On that shelf

Witnessing a higher

And a mightier

Forecast impelling And sacrificing

Who they are to the page

Without haste and rage

With hope And a scope

That entails a chart

That takes part

With a cadence

They dance

And they chance

The tongue

Offering to be hung

On the ladder

As delivered

And said

unlike any other

Posted by antozak in Poetry