Pieces | Y I WRITE

Pieces

January 2nd, 2010
By Jeff

Heart therapy, warm, soothing,
Words come,
Puzzle pieces fit together,
Fingers in a glove
Craft the picture perfect,
There are no pieces left.

Pieces

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My Own Kind of Music

I don't play an instrument.
I envy musicians for they speak the universal language.
Their music touches all people.

I want to touch all people.
So I must make music with my words.

Play Me

It came in a hinged box that lifted open.
A word-making machine with a ribbon
And a sheet of paper
Upon it said, "Play Me."

Catch Me . . . If You Can.

I hope one day to catch the beam my flashlight shone when I was but a boy

Un-Fenced

It is best written, inspiration there beyond rule's fences, cavorts free and fed of dream's wonder.

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