One word can
Give birth to a whole poem
And one poem
Can give birth to a creative idea
One idea can
Inspire one or many
One poet can illuminate
The minds of many
One moment of curiousness
Can light the mind
Of the poet
The thoughts
Now will have opinions
And creativity
Has led the way
In igniting minds
An idea
That fueled a culture
The one
Has now become many

Through turnips
and year old hay
unnamed till then
I saw her yellow mane
flaming in the morning sun
and named her Golden.

There I saw the filly rise
into a spring song and wet her
nose in the pond
shake  her head and bray
proud I was of her.

Who shall be mating?
My youthful filly, growing into
her maturity, Black shadow, or
Orion, or Majestic, the white Arab
long and tall.

Gallop to my fence, my sweet , take this candy.
Absorb the sun and all the oats you can eat.
Run, like my forefathers free
and innocent.
Golden.

" Hai,ku you tell me if da poet lives rondeau bout here? "

" Yes, he's in Limerick, it's trochee to find but I'll senryu
acrosticarpark and it's the ode place with red tiles sonnet,
number 5-7-5 called Villa Nelle. "

" Tanka."

A journey not calculated by distance or time, but by memories -
Our story unfolding between those layers,
Like small puzzle fragments coloring a portrait,
Revealing their purpose -
Presenting its complicated story.

We are but silhouettes reflected upon the sand in the moonlight -
Dancing and howling at the moon,
Asking for the stars...
To keep,
To hold,
Just long enough for another one of those moments -
Even if it is the length of a breath,
I could find eternity in you.