One
word is all I'm looking for
but it will not be found.
I have raided the wordsmith's foundry
and scattered on the ground
a thousand bons mots.
Once spoken, each proved unworthy
of its intended burden and
fell,
broken. The
pieces
-but dim reflections of what they might have been-
lie all around,
useless but for second hand compliments
dealt by tongueless beachcombers
and perhaps for treading over
and savouring
-like feet through drifted leaves-
their crunching.
Yet, guilty of the discard of a thousand,
I remain wordless and your beauty remains
undescribed.