Poetry

Greg


older other poems newer

18 june 2013

In its purest form (Flow)

Since ten years ago,
the ebb and flow
the mystic river that 
goes and goes

Simple in nature 
For essentially beauty
Is the moment that words
Outline the glorious sun

Rhymed like cheese
And flying like butterflies
Ostentatious with as little show as possible
No need to detract from what is

No regal demonstrations
Or artful performance
Only the bare moment of the here and now

For art is flow          
Poetry in its simplest form

For the unread
There is no glamor
Here is now






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