And So She Writes

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    And So She Writes
    Soft voices get no notice
    And yelling still goes unheard

    She sits and wonders where she can find sanctuary
    Peace of mind and love
    Looking for one who can give her the most coveted treasures
    Those of listening with love and understanding without contempt
    Who can love her with all the force of a gale
    And keep her heart safe

    She finds the pen and doodles when it hurts
    When the sorrow is too much

    Over and over she takes the pen anxious to become one with it
    Loving even the feel of the stiff tool in her hand
    Better than any man’s can be

    When it hurts she caresses the smooth pages
    With fingertips just as delicate
    Eager to pour out the true essence of herself
    Onto it's stark white body
    She has no voice to carry impact
    And so she writes

    And they tell her to leave it alone
    For it does not love her and will bring her no joy
    But they offer no other choices except a god who doesn’t care

    And when the pen touches the paper
    Her heart lifts in eagerness to fly, to be reborn
    Her mind drifting now in the bliss that is the written word
    She matures and like the most beautiful of butterflies
    At the end of the day she soars
    One with the craft that brings her the most joy
    And banishes pain into oblivion

    Relief replaces loneliness
    Her true love is there at last

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    witness713 commented on And So She Writes

    05-26-2009

    After reading the Valley, this one goes in an enitirely different direction. Quite a change, but a wonderful one in that it gives a roundness to the author, as well as being beautiful in its personal truth. I feel you on both of these piece's.
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    Penname commented on And So She Writes

    05-25-2009

    I like your spontaneity. You have some great lines. But there are also some distractions you need to iron out.
    Reply to Comment

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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