Love attracts Poets

Are those fewThat get along,That dance and singTo the same song,It’s a gift like no other,Sister, sister, Brother, brotherNot by bloodBut by the Soul,It’s so greatWhen in this WorldOf so much insincerityAnd hateYou can feel,You’re not, alone.

With hurts and pains,And Love’s refrains,As Life sustains,More hurt than bliss,And sometimes,A lonely poem isA mere teardrop, in a kiss.

Not offered to All,Many times, our fragile mindsCan’t handle,Life’s difficult Call.

Cameras, scenes form a complete,Cameo of life’s duality.What is fiction, what reality?Acting, talent, without end,To play the life of others,Must be trilling to thus bendFrom one role, to another.Actors love to be like cats,Nine lives or more their actions,Live adventures, open doors,Adrenaline, distraction.Directors, cameras, actors, sets,Defy most of reality,Challenge most of life’s hard bets,Great film…

That become part of our existence,That we put up on a throne.Funny how we meet them,In a book, a film, a poem,There we find our Heroes,Made of dreams, not flesh and bone.Funny how we idealize,What we cannot be,Always wanting to be more,Than our reality.

And from the thickest mud was born,The loveliest Flower ever known.We too from clay and mud are born,We must then sculpt ourselves in form,Becoming what we know is best,Creative Love and Tenderness.