Verse, <br />just woven <br />from words <br />is grape juice, <br />not wine. <br />It must ferment <br />and age <br />in the dark cellars <br />of the mind; <br />for a while <br />forgotten. <br />Later, <br />perhaps tasted <br />and shaken in the sun <br />to shuffle <br />or delete words, <br />or perchance <br />add <br />a forgotten word. <br />Often <br />it is simply left <br />on its own <br />until someday <br />it issues <br />the desired effect <br />on the mind.<br /><br />Boghos Artinian<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/verse-13/
