Born Anew

You, born the eleventh
in poetry’s month,
exhale pure air.
on virgin canvas.

Your purity shared
in the sweeping
loops of words bled
on page.

Beyond your birth you’ve
lived long in my mind’s eye,
inspiring beauty and ease.
Tranquility & warmth.

Adept at composing
muted stanzas,
of hopeless lament,
of joyous flourish,
bound in moleskine.

You, my saviour
born the eleventh;
With a pen and dream,
My amour de plume.
I write to you,
A father to his heir
inspired anew.
To achieve more
than he ever could

Advertisements

What do you feel?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s