I find myself calling on a word that
is lovely to say as it rolls around my tongue
tingles in my ear and bursts into the universe
on paper it turns the page into a bit of happiness
that I share with others that they may enjoy it, too
but I wonder

do other ears tire of hearing
the same old, same old words expected from me
when I open my mouth to speak, to astonish another
with a new idea, using the same old, same old words
excited as I am that I cannot call upon a word unused
often by me

so many words that I love to say;
delighted, sensuous, passionate, positive, synchronicity
words of a musical bent that sing in my head in the kitchen
fettucine, proscuitto, zuppa inglese, freschi, funghi, castagne
words that sound more promising on the Italian menu than
at the cafe

foreign words slipped into our language
may need practice; yet once you learn, say them
they become fun to form in your mouth even for one
who prefers to write than to talk, to listen to the rhythm
in the voice of someone else, to hear if they are using their
same old, same old words

Words written are for you to enjoy over and over and over. Share them with others; place yourself in the poet’s pocket by visualizing the picture the poet paints. . .with words. Try it Mikey, you’ll like it!
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Filed under Poetry, women's stories

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