Secret

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A bottle of grains flung in the sand

harvest moon pregnant with damp

a world of murmurs subsiding to buzz

autographs given with minimum fuss

I wonder where all unspeakable is kept

in what tangle of lies it is wrapped

I wonder when we shall be whole

when the ravenous beast is full.

This is an experiment with near-rhymes or slant-rhymes, which are words that almost rhyme but not quite.  As a very auditory person (I used to record lessons in high school, so that I could learn them better), I love playing around with rhymes and rhythms. I usually do far too little of that in my poetry.

This is the 100th poem that I’m posting to this blog – my hundredth poem since I started writing again in February 2012.  It may not feel like much, an average of 5 a month, but it is such an improvement to my previous (zero) output! I can also report a change in attitude towards poetry. I used to think of it as a form of procrastination (to avoid having to deal with my novel). But I have now come to love it in its own right, to actually work at it and try out new things.  In no small part, thanks to such a fantastic group as the dVerse Poets, so I’m dedicating my 100th poem to them.