Who traipsed over
the typewriter keys
and left wordprints
in black & red ribbon?
—Terri Guillemets
words
A typewriter & a teapot
i typed my tea
and drank my words
brewed every thought
ink whistled in the kettle
—Terri Guillemets
Contemp
CONTEMPORARY POETRY —
paying at the tollbooth with pretty words
then swimming naked under the bridge
—Terri Guillemets
Alchemy
A poet swallows life and exhales painted words.
—Terri Guillemets
Poetry of spring
Springtime is a poet —
the blue sky its blank page
so vibrant green in rhyme
a different metre for every clime
birds chirping to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dews
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whispering in each breeze
butterflies — floating apostrophes
ladybugs dot floral question marks
blissful bees stray stanza to stanza
seeds disperse from verse to verse
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended
—Terri Guillemets
Letters from the garden
An author plants the alphabet — and harvests flowers, nourishment, and weeds.
—Terri Guillemets
Inching along, leaving behind
the poet is a sensitive snail —
wandering along the path of life
leaving a glittering trail of words
—Terri Guillemets
Word altar
An author can be just a writer, but a translator must always be a poet.
—Terri Guillemets