Here undoubtedly lies the chief poetic energy:
-in the force of imagination that pierces or exalts the solid fact,
instead of floating among cloud-pictures.
George Eliot

Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me,
why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?
Walt Whitman

All that I see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
Edgar Alan Poe

         Poetry is the lyrical rendition of the rhythm of sight, sound, touch, taste; of living, seen through the eyes of a poet and consigned to paper and laptop and keyboard until it can be read aloud. Yes, all poetry needs to be read aloud, to savor the rhythm in the words, and revive the images the poet conscribed to the pages of a book or computer. And reading aloud, one hears the song in the wind, the trees, the stars, the heart and spirit of the singer and adds his/her solo to the chorus.

         I am honored to be your guest host for this edition of the WDC Poetry Newsletter. I would like to take this opportunity to share my exploration of stories in verse ~ lyric, rhythmic, images and tales of events real, imagined or perceived.

in time of daffodils
By: e.e.cummings

in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)

in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me