Giant blowing winds like slabs of butter.
Melt down like frozen cubes of ice.
Leaves blowing around as trees go bare.
I plant my garden of words and watch them bloom.
From the beginning of time people spoke their thoughts.
Where words are spoken, people gather round to listen.
People have always come to listen to the songs of poetry.
Humans have always been fascinated by the power of words.
Never has there been a civilization without poetry of words.
Poetry comes from something deep inside us all, raw emotions.
Words sometimes get bloody like the dying of a red rose.
Oh, but isn't a red rose lovely even with all her thorns?
Why are some quiet, while others throw words across the winds?
Why" for others to read, find pleasure within their soft petaled words.
The infinite power of words ring out like heaven to me at dusk.
Like blossoms on a beautiful tree, words fall like ecstasy.
The love of words has always come so easily to me.
Confused, but, not for long as our words turn into poetry.
Words are the silver lining like piano key's, in praise of poetry.
Words to me are like beauty and strength coming together.
As we put our words together into songs of poetry.
Let us fly along with ancient dragons, and dance among the skies.
As PAN comes out to play for us, and we dance the night away.
And mingle among the stars and sing our songs to light the night.
As she breathes her last breath, it is in the form of poetry.
Abandon yourself to the moment, it will become a beautiful memory.
12:55am 4/ 5/ 2013