I want my writing to sparkle
and to leap off of the page.
It would disco dance and backflip
‘til my reader was engaged.
Words would visit the thesaurus
and then right before my eyes,
they’d find their super synonym
and metamorphosise.
To alliteration’s beatboxing,
syllables would bop about,
and while each phrase jigged into place,
punctuation would clap it out.
Whether stressed or laid-back,
words would work out to the beat,
and waltzing pairs of contrasts
would soon form their own conceit.
Different images collide
and find they can compare,
so similes and metaphors
soon glitter in the air.
Sentences would join together
in a lively conga line,
then, by themselves, form perfect
little groups of eight or nine.
My thoughts would throw a ceilidh,
reeling round my reader’s head,
then they’d zoom straight in their ears
and become their thoughts instead.
But some are only meant for me
and when back on Earth again,
my thoughts remain inside my brain
and I haven’t moved my pen.
I wish my writing sparkled,
I wish I didn’t have to think,
I wish the words would do it all themselves
and express my thoughts in ink!
