Inside poem lies great wisdom from the poet elders of past. The ones who utter in Shakespearian tongues. They become waves of verse dancing in readers moon shaped eyes. Insights rain upon minds to enlarge cells. Landscaped with grass green tickles reader steps in breath.
Phases rustle as if self is tree and each word is leaf. Fireworks of stanzas caresses eyes in beauteous splendor, to launch a dream And as their bodies of text echo through doorway of past where time matters little own voice whispers with gratitude and awe.
Reverence to applaud grand poem scribed by master at candlelight For their creative gifts do wrap my visions into reality.
Just thinking about the old poets thus poem was born