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The poet

Naked, no clothes, no nothing at all, 
Nothing to cover her thoughts,
Nothing to hide her inner ideals, 
When her mind strolls those innermost walks,

And her lead pencil scribes her tale of life, 
Permanently puts onto page,
Feelings of open, hurt, happy, and love, 
Feelings from sane, safe to strange,

And she champions a truth, her love of the real, 
Her opinion comes straight from her heart,
Her words on the page tell emotional white, 
Of things you might not even want,

But she remains true to her fairy tale life, 
Her warmth will never go cold,
Because her words of wonder wrap in our love, 
To nurture and nourish our soul.

Copyright © Lewis Raynes

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