Emmy Appleseed

If I write you a line
will you play me a jig?

people love the pretty poetry
that drips from my tongue
and falls to the page
elegant inkdrops

but

I find with you
I can’t siphon my thoughts
to my pen. the images ill-formed
the word run dry.

so

take a gander
if you please 
to the poetry hapzard
hidden in my head.

decipher my thoughts
play my lines, let the tunes
hum around your head
and fly to your fingers

skewing the six-string
so precisely.
together we stitch
together each pluck of a cord
to each lexeme
that I dream.

I hear the song we splice sometimes
when my dreams become morning
and for an exquisite moment
we float through oblivion
poet and rockstar
side by side
singing our song.

signing off
[typing out]

ms. emily d stine