Parental Advisory

Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we propose to posit prose poetry
forming a form of continuous connectivity,
to communicate considerable contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose poetry is what you’ll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft are wrought, and revealed thusly,
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.


Stop, but for a moment now, thinking to past. 
Remember how you were before, when you wore 
love sent by listening along to a covenant 
of cemented sounds of soul, 
bound unto the hearts you stole, 
and wear uncaringly on your sleeve. 
Take every thought you bore, and leave 
unfettered, flawless, and falling. Parting fast, 
as if the gift for thinking to past 
were passed between us, unseen somehow. 

So, stop but for a moment. Now, 
afford this rhyme some time, repeating 
every word hashtagged, worth tweeting.