Poetry Poetry

Poetry, poetry, oh how I love thee. I would count the ways, if not for infinity. The beauty of creativity, that comes out of me. Distinctively, characterizes individuality. Senses and emotions, everything experienced differently. Yet, i write what i feel, with hopes of connecting everybody. Conjoined for a moment in time, as all else remains stationary. Imagining the varying views, and effect is so sexy. Often wondering why it was a necessity. To write on paper expressively. Pages in a book of life lived daily. As all, I have gifts and abilities. No better, no worse, just certain proclivities. A blueprint imbedded in the wiring of me. Architected by the father who lives heavenly. Poetry, poetry, oh how I love thee.