Captured by the least of all expression
and its inky’phemral marks… Th’page unblanked;
coloured-o’er ‘n splashed’s the metre’d rhythm
with th’motion of a riv’ring mem’ry bank
that winds, awashed a-by the water’s wake,
its sinew-channeled, solitary surge
e’er finds papyrus reeds ‘gainst which to break
‘n bind a mind that’s shared ‘n sealed b’hind words.
A dance constrained; melody restricted…
(Vibrations ‘long a string sound out the truth!)
Creation pained; a look that’s lost, or hid…
(A head placed ‘gainst another’s more, e’en mute!)
And yet, e’er out from your confines I give
myself, ‘n paint ‘n dance ‘n love ‘n live.
Image credit – Art by Toi
william altoft 