Sometimes I wonder the poetic
forest’s of my mind, I ponder.

Is the poetic dreams I conjure
made up of wasted time?

Are my words reaching your
radio static, and your nimble
ears that lean in just a little,
to take a nible from my table?

Can you hear me?
Can you read my expressions?
Am I getting through loud
and clear?

Hello out there!

As you approach the dragons
den, I spew my poetic fire
into your pits of desire and
it burns for awhile.

You can see its flames
waving in your eyes reflection.

I am a weak flame getting hotter
but exhausted from the need
to kindle the inferno.
But here I am still standing
strong, stronger than ever, feeding
the dragon its poetic treasures.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton