When decadence Strikes,

In the secret cornersOf softly sensitiveInner eyes,That can feelAnd look furtherThan what wordsJust signify,And decipherThe spiritual magicCommunicated,By a Poem’s sigh.Poetry!Magnificent AllureThat the spirituallySensitive,Cannot escape,Your Winter sunYour Summer shade,Life’s, escapade!The adventurous callThe Rhyme and Redemption,Of All inner Sails.

A moment of joy,A ship leaving port.Will it return?Or just as a thought,A memory vague,That cannot be bought.

The rhymes to Mother Goose,The pen, pencil and paper,Were made by slave labor,‘Oh My God! , and I thought,My thoughts were mine,And my feelings too’But No! That’s wrong,According to the ruling clowns,NOTHING, belongs to you.

Night is my Vessel,The Stars are my sails,And my favorite Song,Is the one that hails,Sadness, as a monotone.

To your calling heeds,Never totally alone,I travel with you,Far and long.Thru Life’s good times and bitter storms,The hurts, the misses, all that’s wrong,What life throws at you,Night and morn, must be accepted,Even torn.But as I live, perplexity,Survives and catches up with me,I still do wonder what it is?That makes some poems, feel like this.

This lonely feeling,Or send my heart reeling,Into the sky.No, I don’t have wings,But when heaven sings,And I feel your eyes,The very thought of you,Births Spring in my heart,And I’m satisfied.The world then turns radiant and gay,And I will love you more tomorrow,Than I do today.I promise,Come what may.