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Poem
Mind and soul of heartfelt joy disperses into words
Healing longtime wounds of old, releasing them like birds!
Every word I absorb from verses are seen throughout the skies
They flutter across the sunlit haze and caress my moistened eyes
I feel you soaring in utter bliss beyond all wildest dreams
Stirring up the poetry soup—brewing and cooking all sorts of things! 
For all the wounds and burns are but tales of ancient times
Painful drawings carved on walls adorned with dismal rhymes
Many look upon our shameful thoughts like dark, menacing towers
But never again must we try to forget what is imminently ours
So cherish every word and phrase that barrels out of whim
Each irresistible force of grandeur pulling you to her and him
No matter the age, no matter the time, no matter the silly thought
Everything mattering, everything scattering and surely never forgot
A scrupulous scatter indeed we are forevermore to gird 
In truth we are but birds of words and nothing less absurd
A powerful, menacing force of pain strengthens our souls to earth
And happiness distributes more to gain as we wallow in the mirth
Gushing out our streams of souls they lighten the vagaries
They spew out bright and succulent source, like fresh-born seraph berries
No matter the soul and color we will always be a mass
And for all the shades I fathom, they shall plummet very fast 
Into a world of my devotion and a world of great emotion!
It was never mine to meddle, this iridescent, magnificent potion
Brewed by the miraculous splendor of verses oh so tender
Cooking forever in soups so luscious, no mind can help to render
Oh joy and heartfelt glory, you are never truly mine!
For every other bird out there is but a flying swine!
Provided not by anything, sheer luck has come to release
An everything, a purest matter...an art, a masterpiece
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