Open Book

Open Book. . My hasty quill does not spill ink Like a quill often would But part of me and my heart And written with my blood . Driven by my passion to write With deep emotion conviction and lust Before my life is over And I unwillingly return to dust . Poetry to me Is a way of setting my soul free My mistress my life And my therapy . My fertile mind drifts off Reaching places I’ve never been Drawn from the fountain of the heart And mindful lucid dreams . Mt enthusiasm is such It often pains me too much And my heart cries and breaks For my love And for arts sake . Here trapped on my lonely island I bridge the gap Between reality and fantasy And I can become someone That I’d rather be . My imagination can take me To dance among the stars Or far across the sea And say what I believe . Without my words I cannot live And as long as the hour glass sand doesn’t run out I have so much yet to give . For I am but an open book Naked and shameless For anyone who wants To take a look. . Peter Dome©2020.