![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCAgR5xKPWVJYPj-6jGuo-l3aGRD0bxHsriDbtbD1GyKJfOf_rMgJaVhYYKqQWfSXodksZJ7xKY1rInL8S-KL2oBPYQ0P-Mf4r6KuzvP_bDm5mzCXztyWcC-St_rtaomvuouwo9q74xg/s1600/newwords.jpg)
rabid and sweet in their turn.
They come, sometimes easy, sometimes not,
with forceps-like determination.
But they come.
It's the rain that eases their delivery,
the quiet of night, and wine.
While you sleep I leap from thought to thought,
word to word,
throwing fuel on the burner of my voice.
It's hard to sing when your tongue's on fire.
Copyright © 2014 SK Waller