Words

I take the words out of my had and put them into marinade
They rest in it about three days and then become a lemonade

My words are sweet like sugar pieces slight flavored with the honey jam
I leave this mix in listener’s ears until the words start their slam

My words are songs of thousand singers and whispers of the frightened mice
My words are lungs for those who are breathless, and mostly they are very wise

Sometimes the words may disappear and you can’t find a simple rhyme
Or vice versa they appear and you don’t know where quietness find

The words are birds, the words are lords, the words can treat and ease you
The words are swords the words are cords, the words can tight and tease you

I take my words to flower fields and smother in the flower dust
That helps to words become sincere, that helps them to be warm at last

The wordless world would be so cold, it would be senseless stony
The wordless world would be a place you couldn’t speak to crony

My words are fantasy and dreams my words are miracle and care
My words are humid of the streams, my words are coolth of forest air.