Heartbeat

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…body earthbound but mind gone wandering

Ears that hear naught but the muse’s voice

Fingers that have no choice but to translate those whispers

To set the words free the writer has no real choice.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…busy fingers meet the keys

The rhythm of the keys echo the writer’s heart

Blending and harmonizing together so smoothly

One soon can no longer tell them apart.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…fingers skitter, skip and dance

As across the screen the words smoothly flow

What the dream’s translation in the end will be

Only the writer does truly know.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…busy fingers meet the keys

The rhythm of the keys echo the writer’s heart

Blending and harmonizing together so smoothly

One soon can no longer tell them apart.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…the marks are the lifeblood

Of the vision the writer does inwardly behold

Flowing from heart to mind and mind to hand

Until the tale is fully told.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…busy fingers meet the keys

The rhythm of the keys echo the writer’s heart

Blending and harmonizing together so smoothly

One soon can no longer tell them apart.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…marks forming worded paragraphs

Translate the writer’s inner nightmares and dreams

Tales filled with sadness or joy, with cowardice or valor

Or mayhaps tales that are filled with terrified screams.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…busy fingers meet the keys

The rhythm of the keys echo the writer’s heart

Blending and harmonizing together so smoothly

One soon can no longer tell them apart.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…sentence follows sentence

As ‘cross page or screen the words their way do wend

Until the moment when those keys fall silent

When they type those final words “The End”.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…busy fingers meet the keys

The rhythm of the keys echo the writer’s heart

Blending and harmonizing together so smoothly

One soon can no longer tell them apart.

The finger rest on the keyboard now, strangely idle

Feeling slightly awkward and out of place

Longing for the time when they can once again

With joyful abandon across the keyboard race.

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…busy fingers meet the keys

The rhythm of the keys echo the writer’s heart

Blending and harmonizing together so smoothly

One soon can no longer tell them apart.

And when the muse does once more whisper

Her mysterious secrets in the writer’s ear

Then the keyboard’s hypnotic heartbeat

Might once more the listener hear…

Tap-tap…Tap-tap…busy fingers meet the keys

The rhythm of the keys echo the writer’s heart

Blending and harmonizing together so smoothly

One soon can no longer tell them apart.

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About MARANTHA DREAMWEAVER JENELLE

WRITER'S USE WORDS TO PAINT PICTURES ON THE CANVASES OF THEIR READER'S MINDS. marantha d. jenelle/aka 'maradjen'

One response »

  1. I love “the marks are the lifeblood…” Very nice!

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