rosepoems

rhythmic syllables spin within your mind
more often than dialogue or data  
whispering, floating mantras 
cadences and choruses, gently dipping
and rising, like carousels of phrase
and with each circle 
the sounds cling more closely together
gathering by necessity,
spinning into song with centrifugal fervor, 
overflowing outward
onward, upward…
and the world can’t help but swallow them whole