In between the lines,
Not just
What it reads.
Poetry is
Looking at the moon,
The ocean, the trees
But seeing more
Than, the eye can see.
Poetry is an ambiance
That lives,
In your personality.
Poetry is,
You and me
When love appears
Suddenly.
Poetry is a Music,
Beautifully strong,
Melody,
Singing,
Forever free.
Poetry is
A desperate rose,
An Eternal fragrance,
Fantasy.
Poetry is
The Sounding Sea,
Blue, immense,
Inspiring,
Endlessly.
Poetry is
A feeling that lives,
Sometimes beyond,
Rationality.
Poetry envisions,
The greatest ideals,
With a Love that saves,
With a Love that heals.
Finally,
Poetry is
Personal love,
Come from some place,
We know nothing of.

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Sentiments, reeling
Flying imagination
Loving temptation.
Of the Soul, consolation
Of the mind, liberation!

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You can’t shake it,
Falsify it,
Or fake it.
Like Autumn Leaves,
Poems may fall,
But it takes the heart,
To authenticate them,
All.

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Combined,
Listen to its orchestra
Playing
Symphonies,
For everybody’s
Soul and Mind.

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Of the essential,
The very fundamental,
The exquisitely monumental,
The Secrets in a kiss.

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