Poetry
is the
buzz of bumblebees
as they extract
the mellifluous nectar
of the tulips
blooming in my mother's
backyard.
Poetry
is the
taste of a brain freeze
pumping hard against my skull
as strawberry ice cream
melts into my
tongue.
Poetry
is the
way it sounds
when I hear the soft strums
of an impromptu banjo
tune.
Poetry
is the
odor of
freshly lit candles,
as the light swells full
with smells
of relaxation
on a sultry
afternoon
in bed.
Poetry
is the
pang of loneliness
a lover feels
as they are engulfed
by
absence.
Poetry
is the
sting of pain
as I bite my lip
hard
to keep from
screaming.
Poetry
is the
tinge of sensations
of
throbbing,
quivering,
and
detonating
with a forceful
heave of
breath.
Poetry
is the
scent and hum
as the coffee ***
vibrates,
emitting
a sweet aroma
to lift the
early morning
fog.
Poetry
is the
grin that washes
from left to right
across a face
jubilant
with
appreciation
and
admiration.
Poetry
is the
senses jolted,
the
emotions experienced,
the
moments lived.
Poetry
is the
laughter,
the
tears,
the
yelps,
the
moans.
Poetry
is the
harmonizing,
the
intertwining,
the
dreaming.
Poetry
is the
anguish,
the heartbreak,
the failures.
Poetry
is the
catharsis,
the felicity,
the obstacles overcome.
My world,
your world,
our world;
it is the poetry,
flowing rapidly,
lusciously
from my ballpoint pen.