Beggars and Kings

We serve up words;
sometimes slow and bumbling,
they plod along
or quick and sharp
they fly,

Not ready to wait
they snap out as if  propelled
by an elastic band. Bouncing back
they return to be eaten
with an acrid taste of regret.

Sometimes a bird on wing
or a lover bent in quick kiss,
then off again.  A sword
turned ploughshare – a whisper
so soft we lean forward to catch it.

Some words wear magic
borne by the moon while we wait sleepless
in a metaphor of dream, and then
there are those that are hurled like stones,
a wonder the walls don’t crack.

We serve up words
and in turn devour them,
Beggars waiting
for meal or morsel, sated
we are monarchs.


6 thoughts on “Beggars and Kings

  1. You still serve up the very best words, Sarah…it has been way too long since we exchanged even a single word…

    Some words swing round
    the outer fringes of the forest,
    peering in, peering out,
    restless as the wind
    that cannot penetrate
    words’ jungles.



  2. Rich,

    It has indeed been way too long!
    Your words are a meal, a sumptuous one!
    Is the e addy the same? Let me know.
    My gmail is the same. Been trying to get
    ‘ahold’ of you for a year now. We’re keeping
    your chair polished. It goes without saying
    hearing your smiling voice is a genuine joy.


  3. Aw, so good to hear you again!

    I’m glad the chair is polished. I have been spending a lot of time doing extra university courses for my teaching plus lots of music. My poetry has been neglected, but not my love of it. I have been reading assiduously. I do have a new email, so I will write to you. 🙂

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