---

George Lewis Avery

---

a thought
unspoken
is lost
like a pebble
launched
into the moat
or a sail
without wind
on the sea

a thought
whispered
is breathed
into extinction
falling short
of its mark -
a feeble arrow
that fails
to find the hart

a thought
spoken
repeatedly
is mute
like cricket song
chirrupped -
it drums
like cotton
on the ear

a thought
shouted
rebounds
from vale
to valley
losing
momentum
with every
jolt

but -
a thought
written down
lingers
beyond sunset
and perches
like a bird on the sill
come the birth
of tomorrow

a thought
read by another
has found a host
symbiotic
albeit
reluctant -
it lodges
in the cranium
and reaches for a pen

originality
is under rated -
a thought
exists
of its own volition
and we
the vessel
are a slave
to its whim

.oeg ©

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