Colours swimming in your dish sing to your palette
You discover forgotten money in your pocket
and your spirit dances steps in the rain
when others dash the drops
Words come ashore to your warm blanket in the sun
Ice cream dreams of movement parachute auspiciously to
your secret place
Your reach on ivory opens windows to azure pastures
and a laugh from the child next door stirs up the soup in your soul
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Poets are...
the veins of the world,
signal messengers to the millions
truth-tellers of the best kept secrets,
and some of the worst ones
Poets are word-rhythm dancers to the beat of
under-represented populations
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