Poets fall in love everyday
It might be with the sun; or even a tiny ray.
It might be with the stars; or the clouds as it turns to rain.
Or maybe the morning dew as it springs down from the seventh sky

It might be with the way... the pen and the note make beautiful love
Caressing every inch of its sheets; moaning at its ink-filled touch.
Making beautiful baby poems with rhymes and rhythmical style

it might be with the way....... the autunm kiss the twilight moon
Or as the honeybees sinks its stings on the petals as the flower bloom

Poets fall in love with every gift that nature gives.
Chaos, pains and heartbreak arent enough to make em weak.