A Love Affair with Words

When I was just a young girl, I thought I knew it all. I was wise beyond years and chased the love of my life until I'd been caught. Then I grew. I learned that love is not all it's cracked up to be, and I wrote a poem.

Words.

I put the words on paper and gathered them to my heart. I claimed them for my own and held them close and tight. I believed each word had power and I longed to set them free. But, alas... I could not, for the words held tight to me.

Love.

My heart could not be comforted. My lungs could not breath. I needed air. I needed feeling. I needed to be set free. But words kept me grounded. They held me down. They captured me. I reached out for someone to take my hand and rescue me. No one came. I waited. I watched. I begged and pleaded, at all cost. I wanted freedom. I wanted to escape. I didn't want to write. I wanted love, real human give and take.

Then I looked around me. I realized. Love wasn't what I'd been told for human love is squandered. It never satisfies.

What I dreamed impossible. I now had in my life. Words of wonder, words of praise, and words of love and lies. Could it be so grand? Could I hold them close again? Will they keep me warm at night? Can I call these words my friend?

I've now decided. Time has brought repose. For every word I write just twinkles and glows. Some call it over-writing, some call it purple prose. Whatever you desire to call it, I know it curls MY toes!

If the love of words has you in a twitter too, come on over to A.C.E. Writers and see what you can do with "words".

Jan Verhoeff sometimes loses at love, but words have never failed her.

(c) 2008 - Jan Verhoeff