Your words are leaves that insulate the nest. The snap rhythm of branches that provide structure and sustenance for the famished that read poetry pages and definitely no tombstone epitaph; but are the wheel that turns , grist for the mill too spin wool into yarn. I wake to catch your sunrises. Each a different view to inspire me to greet another day.
Words live forever!
So it’s been said!
Reading through this feels like a dance, at once rhythmic and soothing. Nicely done, Jonathan.
Thank you, Kim
Beautiful!
Thank you, Ms Snow ❄️
Your words are leaves that insulate the nest. The snap rhythm of branches that provide structure and sustenance for the famished that read poetry pages and definitely no tombstone epitaph; but are the wheel that turns , grist for the mill too spin wool into yarn. I wake to catch your sunrises. Each a different view to inspire me to greet another day.
Thank you, Richard
Lyrics. Every line.
Merci mon ami
Beautiful Jonathan!
Thank you, Dick 🙏
Your volta in the concluding couplet is masterful. Just perfect.
Thank you for the encouraging words mon confrère
I like the last two lines. But am left wondering whether I should.
Thanks John, I wonder too.