There’s a poem in my pocket
it’s just waiting there
written on a scrap of paper
a poem still to share
Not very long
and yet the words still speak
sometimes I take it out
just to have a peek
Written and saved
it’s crumpled and worn
but this is how
great poems are often born
In my pocket it waits
until someone comes along
to share it with again and again
in the universe belong
Deborah Horton Writing 
Apr 18, 2013 @ 08:25:06
Love it. I do that sometimes, especially when I write something on a napkin while out dining!
Apr 18, 2013 @ 21:00:37
I do too! I am a real snippet saver…if I think of something a phrase or a word that would work in a poem, I write them down somewhere, anywhere so that I can remember them later. I think it may be a byproduct of my older age 🙂
Apr 18, 2013 @ 07:26:11
A letter written by my beloved
Still pressed and folded it sits
in the folds of the pages, I never miss
I read it many times before
But, I want to read it once more
The words are soft , meaning so clear
When I read, she comes to me so near
I can see her smile through the sheet
Although crumbeld and a bit torn
It is not going to last too long
For its already got worn
I await for the next letter
filled with fragrance of love
no, I never share this ever
its from my beloved soul.
Apr 18, 2013 @ 20:59:42
Beautiful ♥
Apr 18, 2013 @ 21:00:07
thank you
Apr 18, 2013 @ 07:04:26
Loved it!!! 🙂
Apr 18, 2013 @ 20:59:32
Thanks and thanks for stopping by to read!
Apr 18, 2013 @ 06:40:42
Reblogged this on Nature’s Abhorred Vacuum.
Apr 18, 2013 @ 20:59:19
Thanks so much for stopping by and for sharing 😀