Updated: Feb 8
"girl writing" by Estelle Ablett
Time stood still in the wordory.
With bated breath
The ancient librarians paused.
Somewhere, words threaded together
On the loom of a novice poet.
Creating flow and pattern
From fleeting thoughts
Rhythm and rhyme
Warp wefting the feelings
Into glorious reams of golden brocade.
No rough hessian here
Even the banal musings
Are polished into bright ribbons of silk
Lacing tight the ephemeral mood
To the meter of the line
Meaning and verse,
flow from her pen,
A myriad of themes attract her attention
Repeated motifs find their way to the surface
And sit like the pattern return on the fabric
Of bolts of cloth stacked high upon shelves
A distinct voice bringing new annotations
And musings on life expounded from journals.
Looking for a suitable space on the shelves,
The library staff in the word smiths guild
Glance, smiling softly to one another.