The Poet… The Wordsmith … to all my friends and fellow “rhyme-masters”

The eloquence of words doth lure the pure of heart and cure the ills of spirit.
Beauty of verse transfers all times, all rhymes, all minds.
We write in light upon our psyche and share, if we dare.
A poet is a worthsmith, creating new lit with her/his gift.

Deborah A. Bowman

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Writing is like a game of Scrabble…you need the right letters to make the right words…

writing

 I am a notorious wordsmith; this is my obsession.

I agonize over a conjunction or a preposition.

Adjectives are dear friends to me,

But my descriptive pals must let me see

A word painting come to life on the page!

I don’t count the words to set my gauge

Of whether I’ve said enough or way too much.

I brainstorm the words in a mad rush,

Then go back to the start and begin again.

I cut and I add, question and doubt, change and rearrange.

It’s like a Scrabble game; you make the words fit

With the luck of the draw, bit by bit,

Combined with the letters on the gameboard in play

To select words in a new and different way.

Such is the story and frank admission

Of a writer of words with a crazed obsession.

Deborah A. Bowman, wordsmith