Blazing starshine ink bled from her midnight pen and left glittering trails of angel words.
—Terri Guillemets
words
Fugue
The ghost traipsed over the typewriter keys and left wordprints in black ribbon.
—Terri Guillemets
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
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 the rhyme
a different metre for every clime
chirping birds to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, & purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dew
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whisper in each breeze
butterflies as floating apostrophes
ladybug-dotted question marks
a flourishing bloom at every stop
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended
—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