Beneath my fingers I feel the smooth silky paper. <br />Somewhere within my head, a poem’s carefully strung. <br />Then one will be committed to join with the other, <br />When it has been carefully sprung. <br /> <br />Beneath my fingers I see the strong tough paper. <br />Somewhere within my head a poem’s shining through. <br />Then one will be exhibited, joined with the other, <br />Where they will be seen, shining new. <br /> <br />Beneath my fingers I hear the crisp firm paper. <br />Somewhere within my head a poem’s freedom bound. <br />When one will be entrusted to join with the other, <br />Then freedom will at last be found. <br /> <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/freedom-bound/
