What to say, what to write as I search my mind for any matching word                                                                             

I go fishing in a world where words live I dove  inward                                           

I develop a rhythm of soft tone

Written on a page but ingraved in stone                                                                                          

 All strung together still each stanza, stands alone,

Only when said right is the meaning truly shown

But what is this literature you’ll find in fierce paucity                                                                            

A story of becoming a poem of thought, that was thought would                                                      

 grow up to be a poet’s protege classic  form of poetry  

By

Sage