The Flock of Poetry

Wandering aimlessly, above the broad banks of sordid bliss, within the creative hours while my muses dance, throughout this great galaxy dangling, upon my every word my every gesture, craves more, why I cringe at the behest of disappointing, the true goddess within me saying, sing you fool, dance to the rhythm of thought capture ,your sullen nestled down spirit with the notion of carrying, a delightful harmonic hymn above the highest stars, glistening over the strictly platonic, ocean floor, mingling with air. opening your mind, to that quiet entity, whose presence is gravely, only felt between sheer panic attacks and sudden, hints of anxieties bestowed beyond, a bountiful writer's block my poetry sing, soars, dances with the flock.