At some point
ideas ripen like fruit
ah the vine & words gain
flavours fer which tongues pine
as ink flows til the glasses
ah our small consciousness
overflow with richly-flavoured wit
even then
the barrel ah existence
has hardly changed &
kuntless topics argh silent
& pieces awaiting
initiation to a page
When intent gains focus
& words take on a life ah their own
a strange alchemy takes place
as sounds kuntact letters
& words resonate in magical tones
