Dark day, cold, golden leaves, autumn, morning dew,
The dreamer is lost in the day, he loses his route, the poet sings his imaginative spew,
The painter gets inspiration, will create something new,
The spirit of poetry is growing, flying in the clouds, rhymes are rising, they are floating, the wind carries flue,
The debt appears after dark and deep morning, it is no longer so scary ,
I admire nature, my imagination jumps, I love words, I dream, I sing, I love, I am a visionary
I love lightning, thunders are my denary
All this is inspiration, the soul of poem, literary
I remember the beauty, sweetness, the height and the width of the old dude
I sat like a boy on him, sang, dreamed, dreamed, old poets cite
I looked in the eagles mildly contrite..