Words

what do I do with all these words words on the tip of my pen waiting, impatiently. tell me where to begin incessant tapping letters drip scrambling to find their place on this parchment. I wait. shall I find new ways to lay them side by side or across the page, touching, but not too close. or let them meander at will carousing around the boundary lines dancing in double-time prancing with no sense languishing worlds on the tip of my pen connected somehow to my heart light melodies straight from the soul, shared as a gift of love