Words

Silken streams of words insinuate

Meaning through lines of limerick, loathing, or love,

Sending senses whirling, swirling,

Suddenly, all senses are soaked in sound.


And now, scripted scents ascend upward,

Inodorous without description of smell,

No cinnamon, saffron, or sage gracing literary nostrils,

Without a scribe to script them.


Ebony sable of animal or

Landscaped brick layers illuminating

Sensile stirrings, sensuous symbols

Soaring so seductively over essays.


Irresistible lexical appetizers indulge

The luscious lemon-lime longings, leaving

Savory sensations simmering

Slowly on the tongue of sensorium.


Effervescent auras of amber

Luster sparkle, illuminating lengthy

Scores of scaled salmon swimming

Upstream in their journey to spawn.


Audible essence ambles along the avenue of inner ear,

Lilting laughter jostling in lively lines like

Sweet images of summer summonings

Of shade, and of sun, and of sound.


Rushing streams of words accentuate

Meaning in lines of lithesome lore,

Stimulating emotion and speculation,

Texts causing splashes of sonance.


Strings of language, waiting for oral acoustic,

Words sonorous in syllabic silence.

Comments

Anonymous said…
I can tell you were having fun writing that. At least I hope so, because it was quite fun to read.
11 August, 2008 19:02
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