Consider Not My Lips

Kenneth Daniel Wisseman

Poetry Showcase (January 22)

Your words they flow, out pour from lips sublime,
Unlike these many worded tomes of prose,
An unforeseen revival of the rime!
Burnt in the Revolution's vogue repose.
The air of music sweet, the poet's heart,
Which bled with every beat until the bloom
Beset, his crafted charm was torn apart,
The petal pluck'd and placed upon his tomb:
'Consider not my lips to give you breath,
Depart from me! I knew such beauty not,
Nor care about what nearly spelt your death,
Your lovely writ romaunt shall be forgot.'
⠀⠀To hear my lines with longing, have not heard,
⠀⠀But on her lips—the sigh of every word.
⠀

May 4, 2025

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Permission has been granted to reproduce earlier work on xiv lines.