In the secretive garden of metaphors

In the secretive garden of metaphors, A vision of hues enswathed in enigma, Words that grow stronger as they entwine, signing dreams assorted, Under the aegis of magnificent specters, wonder is born for what will ensue, Beauty that settles among letters blooming promises tinged with dream. Oft without hindrance, in the core of belief, Every thought is a capture in time, in the sheltered angle of epiphany, The poet, chaining nights of sparkle or dialogues with elements frightful, Visualize the fireworks - a halo around the Poet, in a revelation of writing that dispels the dark. A heavenly explosion of dreams, The mind flows like a river in vigil, gathering rhapsodies of enchantment, Depict the Poet as a lighthouse of words, sheltering the light within, With expectations stretching beyond the realm of the mundane, fireworks upon fireworks. Preparation and meticulousness mirrored in details, Poet in the firmament, in pursuit of the perfect genesis, Expect a night of scriptural revelations in a burst, There's no need to gaze aloft, but to bond, to merge with the magic of the written word. Each extended verse is an arcade upon the dome of imagination, Where the Poet entices with metaphors and allegories upon the night's curtain, In the cosmic fabric where lyrical outbursts are woven, The Poet, in the twilight hush, is the alchemist transmuting the infinite into verses.