The Poetic Skies
I’m writing of my neighbor,
Who sadly passed away.
She planted the poetry seed,
Of the poems you read today.
A piece of me left with her,
The day her casket closed.
She spawned my poetic inception,
For her, my work’s composed.
It’s been eleven lonely years;
Her poetic sun set, to never rise.
I’m still in mourning far from setting,
Illuminating the poetic skies.
Her presence cast infectious beauty,
But her life’s light untimely set.
Leaving a wealth of memory,
That my heart will never forget.
Her poems speak forever,
Reminding my tortured soul.
Of their creator’s radiance,
That sadly had to go.
I’m up here with other stars;
My poetic rays sting the eyes.
It's my time of day to shine,
And grace the poetic skies.
________________________________
For Chris' "Get Your Rebel On" contest
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