River of Rhyme
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There has to be reason why I'm lifting up my pen.
The ink has started flowing and the words appear again.
The stanzas are evolving as I scribble every line.
My head is full of rhythm as the lines all start to rhyme.
I feel it's like my heartbeat, and it's never going to stop.
Or blood that's pulsing through my veins and hasn't time to clot.
Sometimes it flows much faster, but at times it seeps quite slow.
But like a living river I could never stem its flow.
It bears me on its current as it washes me along.
Oblivious to it's reason but captured by its song.
There is nothing can deter it, as it travels through my land.
Baptizing me with knowledge in a way I understand.
So I lift my pen and answer, all my feelings I explore,
allowing every sentence to come rushing in my door.
Until at last my writing has relieved the throbbing pain,
that makes me want to sit and write my poetry again.
Ivor G Davies
The moment created this second, is a moment that's going to last.
It lives the full spectrum of time, the future, the present and past.