butter light

“Wind of Words”

Wind of Words

       by Mark A. Olivero



The wind of words, it whispers through

the lands of time, from age to age,

from man to man, and page by page,

of written thoughts to breathe anew.

To Engl’nd I cannot go this Fall;

but Blake will surely come to me

or Lewis chance may sit for tea.

This quiet gale tears down the wall

of time twixt me and lofty Milt’n

by measured, radiant words that blow

a clever breeze from long ago.

Upon my shelf still sigh Austen,

Bacon, Bunyan, Burns and Byron,

and poet bard whose lines we play;

these friends I meet throughout the day,

their rush of words to feel again.


                          I I

{stanza 2 under construction}



Copyright 2007. Mark A. Olivero. All rights reserved.



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