All Is Not Poetry
All is not poetry, I tell myself:
then relapse into rhyme
without reason—season
outside of season; for again
I imagine blossoms in winter,
snow that is warmly cold,
nuggets of 24k caresses
gems of crystal fire--
In my heart, for the umpteenth time,
I am a bedazzled knight
and prominent king--
My personal war of roses
and rainbows;
for while many may condemn me
to a cell of practical padding
I think God and the angels
at their best
are crazy in kind….
Copyright © Joe Dimino | Year Posted 2018
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