A perfect way,
Of losing time
For nothing of material
Wealth
Can Poetry provide.
I find it renders
Happiness,
One of a special kind
That warms you
Very deep inside,
And sometimes
Even,
Makes you cry.
Poetry’s
Plain of reality,
And rewards
Are different
From everything else,
Something, very deep
Takes place,
That goes far beyond
Material wealth
Something,
That you can’t explain
But that remains with you
All the same,
A transfer of sentiments
Plays always a part
In the unforgettable,
Poetic game.
Is the miracle of the great artistBy always implanting, Feeling.
We control Nothing,Our lives are but,Falling leaves in the Sun.
Trying to makeSome poetic sense.A World all its own,Where the spirit is born.And feelings never end….
To love the same things,To fill the other’s soul,With tender, soft caress,With Happiness, you blessMakes Love,If not Heaven, not much less.
Agreeable,Depends to whom,Fulfilling, like Love,Yes!Who are you?Take a guessPoetry!You always, Bless.
The more you’re with it,The more you mold it,The more you feel it,Deeper, its Hug.
