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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2031871
A short poem about speech.


The way I run, the way I flow.
The course I follow, or the path I fall down.
Jumping and skipping, I dribble over your white gates,
I become that of a flood.
Syllables, vowels, consonants, are my children,
And I their father,
My listeners, you know my children:
Voice!
Words!
Phrases!
Sentences!
Paragraphs!
They come and leave, they bond together;
Forming rows and columns,
Infecting and bleeding into and onto an audience.
They are a part of me
And I am of them;
Therefore, those that can:
Hear me,
Feel me,
Believe me,
Understand me,
Enjoy me,
Respect me,
For I am Speech!

© Copyright 2015 Jack Ransom (crimsonwolf7 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2031871-Speech