Lost in the fluidic movements of Keats
Feeling each line, steady rhythm ‘n beats
Sending my head spinning, beautiful tune
Swooning all love-struck hooked on the spring moon
Glancing gay-fully over hill ‘n yon
Silently anticipating
the breaking of dawn
brought back in a flourish reading aloud
tears well up as I destroy this old shroud
keeping me locked up so tight…life, no air
thinking repeating rhyming couplets
lead only to despair
but here is a romantic from days past
creating lovely pictures that do last
with only his words, ink, quill, and parchment
thoughts, ideas, love, being different,
setting them free on wings of written word
allowed then to soar, spectacular bird
then to perch on tongues of well-spoken men
let loose on the world, set free once again
travelling sounds delighting each sweet ear
giving peace to downtrodden… far, and near
offering some solace to the forlorn  
on the darkest and coldest dreary morns
these sounds which fly so high, brighten the sky
swirl in the mouths of our loves when we die –