They come
. . . out of nowhere
Lent for a moment.
Swirling colors, passionate inspirations,
lyrics hummed,
whispers passing through.
Words fall like rain.
Pluck them, and toss them
like splashed paint.
Spoken once? Twice?
No, in endless combinations
Just composted words.
Copyright CP
April 11, 2012
“Pluck them, and toss them/like splashed paint.”
Beautiful, really beautiful 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks for taking the time to explore around and read this poem and for noticing that particular line. (I like that one too!)
LikeLike