I stitch my sighs with the dewy bloom
to do away with soggy gloom-
I thread through the rivers, hills and seas
as if they were tiny beads-
I let slip stars through buttonholes at times
only for the sake of a dark rhyme-
while at work something throbs in the vein
what is it, a wreath, a bouquet or a poem?
Posted for my prompt “Of Poems” @ Poets United Midweek Motif