Infant Poet

Under the Constellation of Poets I see, All I can say is, "O' boy, Wee!" God is so good to me! It is like Poetry Heaven & now I have the poetic key. How the writings once were bottled up in me. Now, They are set free. Nevertheless, Infant I am among thee. Seizing myself back in the rhyming meek joyfully. My eyes cannot help but to look fixedly on the uncommonly called. Embracing courage from my new found friends. 'Seriousness' conquers my blood vein rapidity as loving muse comes to me; Poetry Soup, Taste is not of one, But many flavors to prevail over famine-reading, Readers delight of endless banquet of poetry. Fear not when one choose this or that, Where one cannot reach words to the reader, Another sees to their need. Encourage one another in the poetic cyber-space. Passed the grammar & writing mistakes. Read between the lines of the poet's heart. Friendly correction aides in poetical maturely. Love, Not hearing what I desire, But what I need to grow in the Poet's Fire. Now lay myself to dance is the moment within this hourglass, Sharing with you all, Common goals. "Lord, what do You think? I'm I growing up yet?"