“Refuge”

Words.

My refuge.

The soil,

into which, my Soul

takes root.

The silt,

of editorial deposits.

The space,

where

clapping rhythms

rattle, against

my chattering teeth,

through the gateway,

of my mouth.

The only place,

my Li-

fe,

can be hyphenated,

surrounded,

by split infinitives,

and, yet,

like, my Heart,

remain,

unbroken.

Syntax,

to transport

me somewhere,

always, meets me,

where I am.

A backpack,

of emboldened prose,

bookended,

by blank verse,

nominates,

my, pending, imagination,

to nurse sentences,

which come,

in dialects,

of Love.

These gifts,

fit every need,

like,

an enchanted slipper,

or,

silken glove.

One moment,

spent,

amongst their company,

and,

my, laden, Spirit,

forever,

lifts.

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©A_F_R_O_W2021.

All Rights Reserved.

“The Reason”

For a reason,

do we wake, at night,

whilst others,

are at rest.

We are capturing new visions,

with which,

we have all been blessed.

For a reason,

do we wake up,

with an urge, to greet the day.

With a, deep-seated, desire,

to see dreams,

come out and play.

For a reason,

do we pace the ground,

processing every plan.

It is,

in the name of “details”,

turning “cannot”, into, “can”.

For a reason,

are we overwhelmed,

sometimes,

until we cry…

Feeling stuck,

within the “wherefores”,

and the “what ifs”

and the “whys”.

For a reason,

do we take a breath,

until we realise,

that,

these long lines of inquiry,

are solutions, in disguise.

For a reason,

do we practice,

do we mirror

and repeat.

We are searching

and fine-tuning,

every moment, every beat.

For a reason,

do we sing,

and act,

and dance,

and paint

and write.

We are living

our creative works

and giving,

with delight.

For a reason,

do we state that,

“It’s enough!” “Last time!” “The end!”

Then, proceed,

with more ambition,

for our ideas

to ascend!

For this reason,

we all do it,

as, a hand fits in a glove.

Call it passion,

or vocation.

There’s a reason,

it is

Love.

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©A_F_R_O_W2020.

All Rights Reserved.