Word Smithing in Beacon

Folks bustling on sidewalks
with a cornucopia of colors
tantalizing eyes from art
gallery to art gallery .
C and G chords strumming
up and down Main Street
in tune with honey coated
voices and Pete Seeger soul.
The smell of cooking
spices touching off
waves of desire from
nose to tongue to belly,
further energizing the air
of a cultural bonanza
from Mount Beacon
to the Hudson River.

Art spins a mystical web
from life’s loose threads
to catch dreams each day
with what we have to say
valid for passion brews true
under our shirts. So breathe
deep the bounties dancing
on our doorstep and create
for we all have access to pen,
paper, purpose ,and a muse
who knows well we all house
a trove of compelling instincts ,
for poetry is not reserved
for coffeehouse cats or high
brows within ivy covered walls,
but resident in all of us.