For My Poems

Strings of life grow up to be leaders 

Appointing and anointing your future

They trail and sail through your past

Tails of thought that make you laugh at the expanding class of how much you learned

Some will go backward but I clutch the wheel, looking forward

Towards dreams tucked in twisty corridors

Leading to mounds of keys that have barely kissed their doors

Occasionally exploring my patched leaflets of memories

Stemming with foggy chapters

The only story captor is my brain

Which claims this precious strips of velvet that it pin onto my creations

Stationed at the dock and ready to be cast to the nations 

Bundles of ideas 

Stocked and pressed with care into messy pages 

Gauges are checked and set to prepare the everlasting ages

For my poems