Ay, mine eyes be such, the great admirer

Taking your words to heart?
Truly
Though, understanding them?

I believe i have a skewed view of the true layers hidden beneath the rows upon rows of your starlight garden.
I am but a bird above your garden, admiring the upper beauty shone brightly  in the starlight.
I have but the faintest clue about the memories and experiences that root so deeply into your poems,
Nor the meanings behind the words that hold the earth so tenderly.
Ay, mine eyes be such, the great admirer
But as the greatest trees stand tall in their royal crowning,  their historic roots support them whole heartedly, with their focus all upon the lifting of the grand finale.
Deeply do your roots reach down into thine heart. And deeply so.
For how can one reach the stars without a strong story below?
Ay, mine eyes be such, the great admirer.

I cannot be so bold as to claim to know what each poem means, for that would be to have lived in your story with each passing breath.
Nay, i can only express the emotions that these words give me in relation to mine own,
curiousity, like flower garden, grown.
Ay, mine eyes be such, the great admirer

Blithering blather of bothering biting bothers that botherly blather their blantant blatherings of bumbling bemusings brought by bringing blue berries back by blue babaoons bumping beehives behind bubba bears big buggy before biggoted bums braving boorish battles