mornings are not good any more, as I read stories moonlight wrote in my backyard last night they spilt in my dreams, I could not string the beads they adorn my neck, but it does not look right accessories threaten to become outfit I cast them away, just to feel right and light Do I frame them – bright butterflies who flit? to adorn the pages and color my book not stringed this time, but tightly knotted and knit into a pattern for all corners and nook my own stories rebel, asking for a place I see anger and tears, wherever I look the conflict is real, and fabric beaded but my perception is supreme, I know it into the writer's dough, it will be kneaded Let other perspectives just slip out or fit….
Creative Experiments and More 
This is written with gorgeous imagery, Reena, I love it.
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Thank you, Rhen! Glad you liked it.
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You’re most welcome 🙂
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Nice use of eleven-syllable line tercets. I find these difficult to write.
I also like how this starts with stringing the beads (poems) and then tightly knotting them into place until the stories rebel and so you knead them in as well.
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Thank you, Frank! Today, Providence was with me. I wrote the first draft, copy-pasted in howmanysyllables.com and 14 out of 16 lines had 11 syllables each. Made minor adjustments in 2.
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I just checked out that site. The syllable counter is under “Workshop”. I tried it with my poem and it worked well.
Thanks for pointing that out.
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You are welcome 🙂 It works well for me.
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