This writing THING

This writing thing
That I thought was a fling
Turned out to be a sting.

How that sting gave me a wing
Having carried me to Beijing
Hurriedly it turned me into a king.

It is the magic of this thing.
Imagine that it from me words wring.
I for my life to it cling.

Now I will give it a ring
Needing to take it for a swing.
Nature: it has made me sing!

Given me it has this spring
Gaily; yet what will I to it bring?
Gently I still need to find the red string.

Poetry by Lea Foverskov
Read 1173 times
Written on 2007-10-05 at 23:15

Tags Writing  Life 

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Kathy Lockhart
this rythmic flow of this felt like i was swinging. Up, up, up, I go to catch the rhyme, then swooshing backwards to pick up the other. I love the feeling it gives me. : )

lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
this rolling rythmical poem demonstrates your skill and it nice to see your style embellished here you are an asset to this site rgds Mike

lastromantichero The PoetBay support member heart!
excellent writing Lea lovley rhyme and a very good poem you are a good poet and welcome here