Words without meanings

Doors  restrict only those  that move

locks  imagine your thoughts will not flee.

A fine  dress  waits  silently  to  enter the banquet hall

from the days it stayed in a cold corner of the cloth rack.

Were sentences hiding in the pages

as words refused the escape to pen  from the soul.

Fingers  round the tool that create the mind’s reflection

paused  never

wanting to throttle each letter birthed anew.

Smearing a feeling  on paper is incomplete

like a photograph of a rose

that cannot give  the sweet smell.

Words  struggle to  be true to the heart

which feels  and each emotion sets out on a journey long

all  the way straight down to the pen

held captive by the fingers.

Sedated by the  rocking movement of the wrist

words forget their way to  the paper

where they are to  get imprinted

and sleep off  in the pen like  a baby.

Let words sleep

as only sleep can  bring dreams

without them  more meaning is impossible

to be given to words that no longer remember

what they had meant.




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