This Place...

by Michael

They scrawl their ink upon a twill
where love and sadness often spill.
A place where poets flock and scrawl,
with all their writings on the wall.
You'll read of sonnets with dewy hues-
and rhymes that bring the Monday blues
Metaphors with verses free and bold
and all the ones, of winters time in cold.

Tales of twists that make
us shake our heads
and titles weaved from looms-
into some thoughtful threads.
From valentines, that travel
through to mothers day-
or topics where we come and write-
and really have our say.

All stories born and read
can come from different zones,
some with chilling truths-
that rattle all our bones.
From grief of war to guns that want to rule-
where government's are mean,
and show us they are cruel

A place to share and learn,
and absorb each others faith-
an openness for authors,
a place to write that's safe.
A nice respectful haven too,
when times are seen a little tough
to try and help them through

Many come to have a test
and have a surface-scratch,
and then their quills are
ripened up and then begin to hatch.
They flow their words,
for all aboard to see-
and so allow their work to
hold a feel that's free.

A place where worth;
is worth its weight in gold
where hearts are shared
and friendships start to mould

I like to write with love,
and words some times in jest.
a place where authors are
simply just the best.
A social place where ethics lay
and also have a creed,
for all to share, a wonder-place to read.

Oh yes! There well maybe a sneaky one,
who could be seeking truth,
some one who hops around
who is a secret sleuth.
Their pseudo -berry is a taste
that's very nice and sweet-
they have a sharp-side so beware!
but also soft!
-a loveable and adorable;
a Wuggable friendly treat.

A final word-
Its not about a loss or win

it really is about what all comes out
from all that lays within ????