A Poem Unwritten

Words unsaid,

tears unshed,

love ungiven,

a  poem unwritten.


A kiss unshared,

a joy unbared,

a sin unforgiven,

a poem unwritten.


Each verse unshown,

each meter unknown,

remain always,

a seed unsown.


Likely you were never told,

it’s you, yourself, who is the Poet,

and what you say and what you don’t,

decide great things I tell you now,


A lovely chance,

you have been given,

not to leave,

a poem unwritten.









The best poems are never written,

they pass in sacred silence

No stanza captures,

a winter sunrise over a snow-draped pine forest

No meter equals,

the joy found in a first kiss

No style matches,

the sadness of losing a beloved friend

No alliteration belongs,

to the sore muscles and satisfaction of a good day’s work

No such license,

was ever granted a Poet