A comma, like a tiny hand,
presses pause on the world.
The period ends with authority,
a full stop to wandering thoughts.
Verbs leap and stretch forward,
carrying meaning on swift legs.
Nouns sit calmly in the center,
giving names to the unspoken.
A question mark curving upward,
invites curiosity to lean closer.
Even the dash—so uncertain,
finds beauty in its interruption.
Grammar, this architecture of speech,
builds bridges across blank silence,
showing us how order becomes art,
how form opens doors to beauty.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: February 26th, 2025 10:58
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 36
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, whats write for me
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Comments4
Excellent write
How difficult it must have been before punctuation and even before they separated words. A fun read
I like your thoughts here concerning punctuation and grammar. Visual and nicely expressed. Have a good Thursday.
Thanks Cassie
Wow, Gray this is masterful. It tells the story of written word with grace and eloquence and merges it with speech effortlessly.
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