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Sunday, 16 October 2011

White Page, I Think I Love You

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There's something special about a virgin piece of white paper... untouched, unblemished... 

Enjoy this poem I wrote about it:

Ode to the White page

Ever since I met you, I haven't been the same
It's as if you beckon me and call my name
And every time I look at you, 
I feel compelled to touch you

A powerful attraction that is felt but can't be seen
And as far as I remember, that's the way it's always been
I see a world of possibilities of what you could become
A vision not all have but that is shared by some

You could be a beautiful drawing
Or my most amazing writing
You could become a painting
Or whatever I could be fancying

With you my only limitation, is the stretch of my imagination
There's no end to my inspiration, and it defies all explanation
It may be hard for some to comprehend
But all of my senses you awaken

What does a new white page represent to you?  Do you feel the attraction too?

Much Love, 


  1. Oh I am so with you! For as long as I can remember there's been something about paper. White, colored, lined, a's art waiting to happen. I love words in written and spoken form.

  2. I agree Pamela, it's not just a white page, it's any blank canvas really!