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Winged Words
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Winged Words

Poem By Valsa George

Like a creature hibernating in its burrow
Waiting to come out with the first verdure of spring
The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart
Through the long winter awaiting another spring

After staying torpid inside for long
At a time I expected it the least
Timidly came out the first word
As shaky as a calf getting up for the first time

Then another came and word after word in a row
Like pellets of rain on the window pane
I boiled them in the crucibles of my imagination
And finally dipping them in the ocean of my emotions

But rhyme came to set constraints
For the right alignment I struggled
I had to decide on its texture and format
Pondered if it should be a sonnet or an ode

I might have kept the door open for long
Alas! All my words and fancies flew away
Like birds taking on wings into the sky
From a cage where they were imprisoned for long

I stood so helpless with my mouth shut
Staring blankly out into the airy nothing
Like one lost in the doorway of his own threshold
Unable to call back those winged words lost in the void

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 41 votes ) 108

Other poems of GEORGE (834)

Comments (108)

You are an asset to this site. This poem flies above all others.
I can very well relate to this. Despite it missing rhythm, I was enraptured by the creative genius behind very medley of words. The only change I would have made (if I were the composer) is to replace the word " ocean" with " broth" , because I surmise it to be resonant with your perception of words or thoughts as cooking ingredients (as suggested by " I boiled them in the crucibles of my imagination" ;) . I am well content with this piece.
This is a magnificent piece of poetry! Lofty expression that takes it flight from Nadir and transcends zenith! May I quote a few captivating lines here, ‘I might have kept the door open for long/Alas! All my words and fancies flew away/Like birds taking on wings into the sky/From a cage where they were imprisoned for long………….10
It has been awhile since I read this poem, but it still conveys the truest expression of a writer, reading this (and all your work) has a symmetry of language that is perfectly shaped. Your words are wings of eagles soaring as high and long with the best Valsa. now that you have made it to over 800 I can see you soaring higher. where stars meet the sky.
Typo: Please read as 400th poem (I beg your pardon for inadvertent typographical error)