Poetry
Where dreams begin
nightmares end.
Dead are buried and the
living have sorrow.
Some things they rhyme
Many make you sing and dance
A smile, frown, giggle, and sad.
Poetry is a delight in ones
hand as they master and create.
Uniqueness and individuality
tastes, forms, and shapes
of thoughts and imaginations.
Lying low, and moving slow
whisking by fluttering light.
Poetry is like spirit flight
in the thoughts of a Muse.
Copyright © Peggy Bertrand | Year Posted 2007
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