Inspiration
I never knew I’d be in heaven
In the autumn of my years;
Or that I’d be immerged
In the brilliant art of words,
Or float above operatic notes,
Or view ballet through
My elated tears.
I never thought I’d meet
Inspiration face to face,
Or feel it rise within me
With a poet’s surrendering grace.
I just know that I’m contented
As profound love keeps flowing
From my impassioned heart.
This is the gift that artists
Of this world yearn to impart.
Connie Marcum Wong has been the Web Mistress of a private poetry forum Poetry for Thought since October 1999. Her poetry has been in many publications, anthologies, magazines, and e-zines over the years. She published her first poetry chapbook, Island Creations in 2005. In 2007, Heart Blossoms was published. In January 2010, an anthology, A Poetry Bridge to All Nations, was published by Lulu Enterprises, Inc. Connie created the 'Constanza' poetry form in 2007 and Con-Verse form in 2010. She has resided with her husband in Hawaii since 1980.
Thank you, Linda Hurdwell, for the following comment--
ReplyDeletevery good, inspirational words.
I loved your poem, especially these words that resonated with my spirit.
ReplyDeleteI never thought I’d meet
Inspiration face to face,
Or feel it rise within me
With a poet’s surrendering grace.
Beautifully written.
Love, Charlene
Dear Connie,
ReplyDeleteIndeed, artists seem to feel things more than others and we derive our inspiration from everything around us. Music, art and literature are among the things with so much beauty that can make us weep, but still provide inspiration for writing. It's so nice to see your work again, Connie. Wishing you a blessed Christmas, Carolyn Devonshire
Connie, I continue to be inspired by your gift of poetry. This is a wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing your gift with the poetry community and world.
ReplyDelete-Maurice J. Reynolds, Owner / Editor
TGBTG! Publications, Creative Inspirations
www.tgbtgpublictions.com
Your poem tells a lot. To be inspired to write is a great feeling. Poets can be inspired from everyday events.
ReplyDeleteYour poem speaks to me.
Thanks for sharing.
Shirley Smothers