Thank you to everyone who has been reading, sharing, commenting, and to all of those who guided me, in this life of poetry.
Trudging forwards through my poetry to get to the other side,
Finding the looks that I have my eye on and the eye that I have my looks on,
It’s a constant chaotic mess to write upon,
The page; which I will see on the surface – when in comes the tide.
Moving towards a writer’s future expecting karma to decide,
Allowing her universe to spin around the gold and the gold to spin around the universe and be gone,
I have my quandary to do the laundry or just leave all of it as it shone,
Okay, this revelry, it seems to be my pride.
I’ll write poetry, verse, stanzas, bow to the sonnets, and prose too,
Send it out into the world,
Yeah, if I have to.
I think I’ve spun and whirled,
Uh huh, there’s that word again – I know it’s guaranteed to work if I work to guaranteed it’s a shoe –
In; more than just on this page; I have once again with my words, twirled.
- Prompt: future
- Form: sonnet
- Device: chiasmus