Secret home of the bones

Beautiful writing. I felt the true spirit of the poet in this piece 

"Lived a drift until times topple opened a times riffs keyed frequent lacking tone 
Where the Poets frequencies bound set free the color locked in a poets bones"

Such wonderful depiction of the source of a poet. For it really is in our bones to write 

Thank you for this delightful read
Gwen :) 

Life is indeed woven in rich colours and different threads...only a poet can see the beauty in the dark, the comfort in the pain. It is almost as though it is a rite of passage for a poet to walk through Hell. A superb poem Matt x

cool write!.......................................................................................................................Jim