Freedom Bound

Beneath my fingers I feel the smooth silky paper.
Somewhere within my head, a poem’s carefully strung.
Then one will be committed to join with the other,
When it has been carefully sprung.

Beneath my fingers I see the strong tough paper.
Somewhere within my head a poem’s shining through.
Then one will be exhibited, joined with the other,
Where they will be seen, shining new.

Beneath my fingers I hear the crisp firm paper.
Somewhere within my head a poem’s freedom bound.
When one will be entrusted to join with the other,
Then freedom will at last be found.


© Ernestine Northover

by Ernestine Northover

Comments (5)

I can relate to this piece Ernestine. Let's hope there's many more floating around in your head! Andrew x
excellent poem..love from me
Between your head and the paper, when the poem does in fact form, , , everyone of yours I've ever read is absolutely a piece of art....this is lovely....`~~marci. :) .~~`
Ernestine, Brilliant poems, I know the feeling well here. Poems just leap from the mind whenever there is a blank piece of paper around. Top marks and thanks for sharing this my friend. David
Now here is a lady with a mind full of tallent, and a heart full of passion, I think you're AMAZING girl! All the best Love duncan X