She realised inspiration was all around her,
She could change her hand writing like a chameleon would his colour,
Her thoughful mind had so much to say,
Not through her mouth but her fingers per se,
When faced with challenges,
She'd create pages,
Pages of words of encouragement,
She chose poetry because it was one of the things she did with so much ease and without worry of being wrong,
So she chose poetry.

A poet is an artist
Not a mimic
Copy.....
Paste
A word here or there
A feeling before
Said again
With less meaning
And no feeling
A poet is an artist
And artists create
A soul......
Soul
Soul is original
Displayed on a page
Like never before

No one else can say what you say
The way you say it

These masters of poetry
flood my mind
with rhymes
and pure
unaltered thought

truth
honesty
brutally at times
these master poets
dominate my mind

Changing who I am
what I see
in a small number of lines
When master poets words
take control of my mind