Filling The Page With Words



A blank piece of paper

A blank canvas

That is just waiting

To be written on

And used for this

Art called poetry

Just penning and writing

Yet stemming and rising from

The poet’s own heart and mind

Evaporating from within

And released as poetic vapor

Onto the page

As the poet and poetry

Continue to engage

In every poetic way

Soothes and grooves

From night until day

For as a poet

I know exactly what I’m doing

As the poetic fire inside

Just keeps on brewing

Increasing and never decreasing

Yet always releasing

And proceeding

To write and fill up a page

Word for word

Line by line

And with much to demonstrate


Express and always say

And doing so

Whether I


Sit or lay

Uniquely tailored and catered

With the pen being

The very applicator


And poetical activator

To the extent of

The poetic mind

And what it consists

Of and is about

Being the actuator

That opens the poetic valve

To allow these artistic words

Lines and rhymes

To actually get out

Floating around in the air

Then lands right on the page

As the poet and poetry

Continue to engage

All while the paper and pen

Turn this entire artistic and creative process

Into a poetic reality

Never before seen

Read or heard

For I as a poet

Can’t wait to fill

The page with words


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