the
chime of
pastel colored leaves
red blue green orange
and
some indigo
we
spiral
to
the
ground
with
lighthearted
sound of
autumn's voice

We are the unsung poets
who toil in day for the harvests
then write at night as the wick burns
in the dark slips of our meek turns

We are the unseen poets
who invisibly raise armours
swing pens as the dark evades the light
a strip to the core of the soul,our right

We are the trampled heroes
whose halos are out-shined by thunder
and tongues tied to a word twisted silence
Our heavenly seduction of a naked dance

I am the unsung poet
inspired by love and rhythm of life
transpired by the ounce of human experience
My eternal contract that only makes sense

.
After childhood sleep,
Of days into dawning,
Shucked of dusted clay,
Eyes set unto fawning,

Then, the rowing began.
Shy gentle waves lulling
As it does for Everyman
Who seeks loves' culling.

In a tempest of blue sky,
I was engulfed so plain,
That time was sore to eye,
All suitors never maidens.

One true love never came,
Nor to fly as birds teeming,
Now all is shipwreck of age,
Ah, but to drown dreaming.

Endorphins need to be released
In the quest for happiness and peace,
So if you love it let it go
And feel the joy it can bestow