Poem: sometimes when im writing, an ode to pen and ink and e e cummings

sometimes when i’m writing

i hear a fantastic scope

a ring of hope

twinkling out of the darkness

through the doomed dome

of sparkling towers

on slippery slopes

searching for amnesiacs

forget-me-not partners

hemlock ghosts

landmarks of time

recognition posts

i was in love by accident

that’s the only way possible

for innocence

love is an unplanned miracle

better than winning the world

true love’s magic never dies

it grandly defies

any pure obtuse logic


    1. Hi Amanda, that’s so cool 😊, I like that song too. I like how music fits with silent images/films with sound off, it does seem to match the rhythms. It’s inspiring to write while listening to music too. Thanks for your fun comment.


  1. Love this poem, Judy. ❤

    Its message is very true.

    It reminds me of the final line spoken at the end of a movie I once watched featuring Agatha Christie’s famous detective Hercule Poirot.

    Poirot is standing on the 2nd floor balcony of a great English estate standing with a woman friend and acquaintance of his of many years.

    They see a young couple kissing in a gazebo in the gardens of the estate.

    Said Poirot’s woman friend, “How did those 2 young people wind up together?” to which Poirot answers, “Love is a mystery. A mystery so great that even I, Hercule Poirot, the world’s greatest detective will never be able to solve it.”

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    1. Hi Christopher, I love the Poirot quote ❤️! So perfect! I can imagine the whole scene, the gazebo in soft lighting and Poirot in a close up with his curled mustache pondering life. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

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