The majestic of poetry
To some is a fantasy
A realm in which
They cannot fathom to be
I myself, on the other hand
Run parallel with poetry
Poetry majestically sparkles
From time to time upon me
Sonnets and limericks
Sparkle magically into my brain
Happening when I least expect
Meteoroids falling, I run to jot them down
Before forgetfulness sets in with pain
A three line stanza sometimes is enough
To satisfy my need
Other times I must write a lot*
An octave for instance may be
What I need to hit my poetic spot
Either way I dream
I too could compose
Long prophetic fantasies
Such as Homer's Iliad and Odyssey
The majestic life
Of poetry is fantasy
Thriving the heart
*Which dwells within me