Put down your pen and think of when
You try to find the word
To best define a sight divine
With common noun or verb.
Some scenes they just leave one nonplussed
There is no phrase that will
Convey a sound that now confounds
And baulks twixt ear and quill.
A tactile rub or texture hug
Transmits a sense so clear
But try to write and watch your trite
Translation then appear.
A taste bud sings when morsel stings
With pleasurable zest
But try to tell that sapid spell
And risk a palimpsest.
A bouquet sniff or wafting whiff
Of scent so sweet or rank
Confuse the nose and won’t disclose
The words that make it frank.
Pick up brush now and think of how
A painter’s dispensation
Makes colours rich with palette swish
And shows, not tells, sensation.
But scribes must stick to rules so strict
Our abstracts can seem dim
With grammar straight we pigmentate
Our scenes for edit’s whim.
But would I swop? No, I think not
(Though bleeding down these phrases)
Yes, canvas shows but wordsmith knows
A voice can make world changes.