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