The One Eyed Cyclops,
That nothing,
Clearly
Ever, sees.
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Like on a stem,
First it’s a bud,Then the heart showers,Breaks into feelings,Words build like towers,That shake your mind,And then devour,Feelings, that make,A poem flower.
Fascination with the stars,
So out of reach,So out of touch,Like some Loves so often are.Some of us,The Dreamer-fools,Where imagination rules,Sometimes travel to the Stars,There remain like in a trance,Dreaming a star filled Romance.
What is it about Poetry,
Like Cupid’s Life-Giving arrow,Love turns Poetry into Art
Love is a
An out of bodyExperience,Sensibility, acutenessLife’s most beautiful,Improvement,The Art of givingOf yourself,GenerouslyThe very best,Without thinkingFirst and selfishlyOf your little world,Thus of all the thingsWorld over,The deepest happiness.
You have to feel it,
Never hide, emotionGrasp it,Dramatically,With its pride,So tenderly, generousSpontaneous,Never venomous,Embrace it withHeart, never rationAll its passion,Poetry,You have to Love itIn order to Live it,Then surrender to itsEverlasting attraction.
A moment of Glory
As a moment of Love,If you are lucky enough,To come under its touch.