The Escape Hatch
By Jon Slone
Its here I think thoughts
About Becks and of Birds.
And I bully some words
Cause I push them for fun.
Ideas are like bubbles that you blow from a bottle.
And I want one so bad to repair and remodel.
But those sly little orbs, they alight on green stubble.
And what can you do with a pool of broke bubble?
Ensconced in this glen.
With a belly of chagrin.
The ink in my pen
Weaves a magical pun.
And maybe my quill
Is the one at the wheel.
And I’m just the guest riddin’ shotgun?
Jon outside-the-box Slone
I love the picture you found..it goes with the poem so well...What an interesting idea that your quill is in control and you are just along for the ride...interesting concept. I know you have told me before that sometimes it seemed like the pen was writing all by itself and you were just along...I think that paints an interesting thought and it was a nice read. I had to read twice because of the difference in the meter of the rhyme....intesting...
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