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.

Bathed In Words

Would that words were more like soap 
wherewith a cleansing could occur.
A wanton wish and humble hope,
see this as that. Or, as it were,
that all these words might disculpate,
launder, and wash away your fears
to promote a more mindful state,
revealing steps; the subtle tiers
of metaphors, and similes
that provide for extenuations
of reasons to feel more at ease;
stet your threats; allay frustrations. 

Would that words could clean so bright 
without so much as giving pause; 
could share emotions of delight, 
revealing how, and showing cause 
for words when they are heard and read, 
as those like these thusly relate, 
to be thought pristine instead 
of written on a once clean slate. 

Would that words, like wish and hope, 
considered here as fortunes follow, 
washed within, were words like soap, 
then this would not be hard to swallow, 
and soapy words would not raise the ire 
of any who might listen in, 
yet leave you, listener, inspired 
by what is heard above my din.