Poetry is an Art Form
"Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words,
after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost,
something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
— Mary Oliver
With pen in hand, I readily compose heartfelt lines
filled with aggregations of thought and emotion.
Verses that break chains that bind, setting me free
as if I were a shackled slave in the Land of Goshen.
Freed by my pen, I've been redeemed from the sea,
and each poem a litany, recited on a rolling wave.
Poetry is the seafaring wind that fuels my sails,
navigating me to exotic, faraway places I crave.
I'm unanchored without the burden of an albatross
tied around my neck when I choose to compose.
While tethered to a pen, I'm safe and kept afloat
in tragic times of mourning and sorrowful woes.
Rhyming romantic Sonnets stirs my sensual blood,
for then I am imagining being someone's treasure.
With the heart of a passionate poet, I take part
by scribing torrid scenes of fervor beyond measure.
Writing breathes anima into the chasms of my soul.
I celebrate my poetry as art, a revered tour de force.
Poetry is my source of equilibrium, joy, and peace
when life's adversities attempt to steer me off course.
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