Dance

I can feel the energy of the day,
Currents spinning,
Guiding my footsteps,
Cool morning and steaming cup,
Lift my spirits from sleep…
A truck rattles past,
Where does he go?
That he must hurry so…
Words dance  between the seconds,
Playing their games,
Dareing me to catch them,
Challenging me to find,
Their rhyme..
Can’t rhyme nunchucks?
I dont give two fucks,
Want to rhyme scuba?
For that you need a map,
Of Cuba…  or Aruba..
There are fleeting words,
Hidden and forgotten,
Like Scurrilous rumors,
Thrice Blithering Mullock,
Gibbering in the shadows…
There are words that heal,
A hope wrapped joyous dream,
And words that wound,
Ugly ungrateful lieing useless…
As the artist plays his melody,
I shape a thought,
Examine it in detail,
And word by word,
Sculpt it apon the page…
And now my cup is empty,
Bereft of …… all warmth.
So come my muse,
And fill me once again,
That I may drink deep,
From your life giving waters,
And marvel…
As the words dance.

Best wishes -SirHanz