By your poetic power,
By the nectar distilled,
From the champagne,
Of your purple Rose,
Imagination.
You have been blessed,
By the gods of Poetry,
You can open Skies,
And plant divine vines,
In the Universe of Words,
Never before done like this,
So beautifully,
With such Sentiment!
And Imagery,
Reaching straight,
Into the heart,
Of all of Humanity.
That we can be better,And things arrange.We are our own worst enemy,A sword in the sand,That becomes burning,Full of destruction,When it comes to power!And ownership of land!
The light is somber,GrayThen comes that empty feeling,That just won’t go away.Frustration is a partner,Not easy to dismiss,It hangs around,No happy sound,Just softly does it hiss.Ups and Downs,Are part of Life,What other can I say?You can’t be happy all the timeLife just isn’t that way.
Some see it as milk and honey,Others just as a possession.
I must chose them softly and with care,Mind them, find them, grind themInto reality,Respect them, blend them,Care for them, love themAs does a mother, love every childKeep them close, protectedUntil they are ready,To fly away, poetically,On their ownInto their new found,Poem home.
Delving into the Sands of Past, Present and Future,Using their hourglass of words,From whither comes their stunning light.That is why, for me a Poet’s words are sacred,Better than those of a priest or any religion,For a Poet, even if he should try,Cannot hide behind a lie,Writing Feelings, tells you why.
The rest is justAltogether,Frills and flimsyLace,Poetry can’t helpBeing,The innermostWitness,Of the feelingsOf the human race.
