MS (9th December Nineteen Fifty / Tiglin, Wicklow, Ireland)

This Is The Place

Where words and wisdom
Grow on trees
Rich ripe ready words
Falling on paper
Rhythms too are there
On branches, waving
In the wind
And thought bunches
Blossoming, scent
The air in this place
There are hills to climb
And wonder what’s behind,
In this place
Water too is there,
Dripping, dripping
Slow, worrying a word
Into a rock

Martin Swords Oct.2007

Poetry Is The Place

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

This is a beautiful poem, Martin. The best of yours I've read thus far. Your 'rich ripe ready words' have certainly hit their mark in this reader's heart. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This evocatively almost magical place, calls to the childlike wonder within, a doorway to the poetic muse. God piece Martin. Shaun. PS try my 'Magic' if you will.