Poet Write

The sweet smell of the fertile night My poet hand begin to write Head in hands; brain recite Tonight, falling crystal delight Outside my window shade site The shadow is cast And my poet mind is in a blast Now my memory jolts at last Found changing words, I hast Shivers run up the spine fast Tonight is it’s creation own Dreams flaunt, taunt, in dream zone Of making poetry rhyme and verse tone To the jingle on my page poesy throne Finally, midnight ode' in witching hour shown