This week, while organizing, shredding, or saving thousands of documents that accumulated over the years, I came across an untitled poem I once wrote. As a writer, I was intrigued by my long-forgotten poem devoted to finding the right words. This found poem, which I’ve now titled, “Words, Please Be My Friends Again,” delves into my long-standing love of—and periodic frustration with—finding the right words to convey my thoughts and meanings. You see, since childhood, I’ve been a fan and devoted follower of Words. My love of writing led me to create lots of poems and eventually write books. Here’s the poem with minor changes, which you’ll find in [brackets like this.]
Words, Please Be My Friends Again
By Connie Bennett
Words used to be my friends;
now they steer clear of me;
they shy away from my presence whenever I yearn to use them;
they seek not usage, but mellifluous arrangements.
Words, [please] don’t be out to lunch for endless
hours, days and months;
don’t be wary of me; I only seek to give you the honor you deserve.
You used to let me find you with a modicum of facility;
now you’re as elusive as long-desired water in a desert.
Words, I’m beginning to think that for years, I’ve been following a mirage;
deluding myself, thinking that a day would come when
you, Words, would dance into place, with bounce, pizzazz [and rhythm].
[Instead, you, Words, often warily dodge, escape and flee me].
[But] I refuse to be defeated;
Words, I will befriend you again, court you until you trust me again;
I will cherish… the thoughts which you convey
and will honorably make [your] messages truthful, hopeful and eventually
uplifting.
Words, I’ll pamper you, look at many of you in
numerous volumes
where you’re displayed colorfully, gloriously and meaningfully.
[Words, I’ll choose, appreciate, and honor you so that
together, we can heal and have fun once again.]
—By Connie Bennett, May 30, [Year Unknown]