Eloquence

Sit me down near the foot of the stage

So that I won’t miss a single syllable

Baked and awash in such dulcimer tones

That my ears are golden to know their favor.

 

Feed me words that trill as they thrill me,

Fill me with gushes of bubbly froth.

Take me away to the hills of Nirvana

Where sweet fruit and honey will be mine to savor.

 

Lift up the room. Bring it up past the summit.

Ride on the clouds til the air becomes thin

And the crowd becomes giddy with anticipation,

Hoping beyond hope the ride will not end.

 

Teach me your secret. Take me to task.

Where can I learn what you wear as a gift?

Eloquence finds you, even defines you

Riding the crest of a vanishing wind.