Feel the words move minutes to hour,.........hours

see them scatter across turned pages

Hear the sound of their magic power.

carrying us from here through ages...........carrying us back from. This verse has potential.

Such a gift nature has given us beings,.......nature's gift is given us beings

glory be to writers of every ilk.......................writers be praised of every ilk

able to describe, write what we’re seeing........describing for us just what we're seeing
bringing pages alive, in words of silk..............giving life to blank white sheets, in(with) ..................................................................words of silk( are they?)

Slaying every mythical ogre or giant,
easily with cut from strongest will.

No fear of consequence or reprisal,

it shall be written with, an honest quill......(this line is interesting, don't need the comma: ..............................................................this verse is not so much so!)

Storm all castle’s of the closed mind,...has a castle a mind?

ink staining skins from every wound.

Put in print every wrongdoer on trial,

all then reading of what we’ve found.

....from this verse you seem to be confounded by rhyme, led along paths not of poetry but ideas, if you write out what you mean to say in prose first, then allow the poetry to come, perhaps it might help you here.

We as writers staying true to course,..........what here does the word course mean?

always striving for best wells to milk...........?

So filling all pens again to ensure,

that wisely we use our words of silk.

I feel slightly bothered by some of this poem, it is, as I said, somewhat contrived to fit the rhyme and not thought out to tell the tale logically, we should strive to have the story as a whole. and if this doesn't come naturally, then the best thing is to write out the ideas and then from that create the poem.

I know that the casting in of words is sometimes what others seem to do, but they become key words and refer to the whole in some way, even if they don't look as if they do. We shouldn't strive to be complex, rather explicit until the complexity, as I said again, is second nature to our expression.

Well I did what I could, not a teacher of poetry but that was what I thought, love to you from Ann.

Storm all castles of the closed mind,
ink staining skins from every wound.
Put in print every wrongdoer's trial,
then all can read of what we’ve found.

Beautiful imagery
Metaphorically put across,
To closeted minds
Like mine of course
Albeit
I shall appreciate,
The state of poet’s mind
You tend to titillate,
As you put across
In the oasis of my mind,
A mirage I thought
I had left far behind,
In the wanton
Wilderness of time...

minds that have castle's built around them!
Very strong imagery there.