It’s Just

It’s just a question with no answer to provide

It’s just a reason causing thoughts to collide.

It’s just a word looking for a meaning

It’s just a brain needing minor spring cleaning.

It’s just an object of someone’s desire

It’s just a flame soon becoming a fire.

It’s just a day turning into night.

It’s just not settling for without a fight.

It’s just some thoughts written in ink.

It’s just a poetic gesture to cause you to think.

©2019 by Marcia Cross-Briscoe

Four Colored Pen

I write in red to illuminate the strain
That writing brings inside my head.

I write in green to show the page
The world has hope in this crazy age.  

I write in blue to convince the page
That elements of truth can still engage.

I write in black to announce to the page
The world is a serious place, not just a stage.

Many writers tap away at electronic keys
It doesn't satisfy the desire to say all I can be.

When I write in color I see all kinds of moods.
While creating rhymes that don't intend to exclude.

A font-induced manuscript seems the way of the land.
My preference is red, green, blue and black ink coming from my hand.

Digital writing gives more recognition than the pen can ascribe
I'll write my words by hand to stay creatively alive.


©2019 by Marcia Cross-Briscoe