Not so!
It is the incense
Of the poet’s Soul
His breath of Life
His All,
Writing Poetry
Is a religious call,
A vocation,
‘Par Amour’
Out of Love
And Love, alone
A dedication, all its own
A cultivated flower that
You own,
Life’s discovery
Tone by tone
And if it stays with you
Poet!
The greatest treasure
You’ll ever own.
And why do they have that great name,That is different from the rest?Because they are Romantics,Of 21st Millennium Fame.After, you have read them,You’re life won’t be the same,They will take you to the Mountain,Where They write their Sacred Rain!
Like cereal in my power bowl’Thinks the imminent candidate,To upcoming Tyranny,‘Vote for me, trust me,And you will see,How life becomes slow agony’
Even though,I can’t see you,I feel,You’re such a delight,‘Impossible’ said the Light,If I were to fully appear,You would disappear,And I would die of fright.Signed,Fantasy Inc.
Bringing, so manyMemories of you,The way I feltWhen we first metRight then and thereI knew,That love had comeNot even dreamingIt would bring.Blue skies for meBlue skies for you.I can’t forgetHow deep love wasThat once together,The blue, blue skyBelonged to us!Yet happiness,A short caress,Love, finally foundLove, easily drownedIn Life’s eternal,Constant swayAnd though we ownedThe blue, blue…
Living,Clarifies a littleStudy and investigating,A little more,But Life, Us,The UniverseRemain a Mystery,Forevermore!
I write,It starts to takeShape,Love is awakenedAnd writing becomesMy lover,Should I be satisfiedWith that,When I awake?
