Painting With Words

I find that most of my poetic creations come to me late in the evening when it's quiet, and often when I'm lying in bed trying to fall asleep. It can be frustrating sometimes when my mind is racing with words and won't rest until I write a few of them down, so it's ironic that I decided to write a poem about what it's like to write a poem. :-)

Painting With Words

If I were a painter

I might get more sleep.

But writers paint words,

And words seldom keep.

They run through my mind

At the end of the day.

If I don't write them down

They might fade away.

Words that describe

What I think, How I feel;

Giving life to emotion

That's hard to reveal;

Unlocking the gate

'Tween my head and my heart;

Releasing the tension

Where healing can start.

Worries and dreams,

Old memories past,

Feelings of hope

Disappear all too fast.

So I paint with my words,

Try to capture each thought,

Blend the colors together

With feelings it brought,

So I can remember

In days still to come,

What my heart and my mind

Felt together as one.

With each new experience

This life has to give,

I'll paint with my words

What it feels like to live.