I cast my pearls before a blind man.
I assumed he could appreciate my open hand.
Some share diamonds
   with blind men scorpions.
Assuming they are worthy champions.
Poets offer gifts freely at broad doors.
Usually these are doors that can't understand metaphors.
Poor hearts some just can't relate.
They can't consume a healthy poetic plate.

There are those that will say speak plainly to me.
Keep it easy and elementary.
But for a poet there's revelation in the mystery.
Often we feel they just don't get me.
The less you read write learn or explore..
The less you want to dive into the brains deep shores.
I could give you a plain white flower.
Or I can decorate it give it colorful power.
If you don't understand the reasons.
That there are beautiful things in all the seasons.
And how every dish has its flavors.
How every emotion is relevent enhanced with its vapors.

Then I will just have to understand..
and pull back my gifted hands.

I'll give you a 1 and not a 2..
I'll give the less and let that do for you.
I'll keep my poetic expressions.
You'll not slander my word therapy notations.

My gifted juicy stories.. will be like vibrant leaves.
Bouncing freely on strong big trees.
Ready for the picking,
for those that love reaching.
Those that love climbing.
Those that love giving, sowing, planting and achieving.
We all will keep glowing in sunlight..
Rays of knowledge colorful simmering delight.

Yes sometimes we try to share some sunshine..Even with the blind..
Some chose to stay blind.
But if you could get to feel the light.
Would you still put up such a fight.
Poetic liberty is justice for me..It sets the captive free.
Poetic Therapy is soulful,
bringing every emotion possible.
Poetry..
Unveils or conceals situations of lifes mystery.
By SelinaSharday..2019..S.A.M

A comely rainbow
spanning the wet, sobbing sky;
colours showering
mesmeric pearls of teardrops on earth.

Many subtle shades of marvel
unfolded that day.

Elegance of burning splendour in sun’s soul -
earth treasuring the seed of the first rain
in its womb for a new birth -
Spring’s svelte fingers
painting brilliance across the droning vale -
mist of radiance of a gorgeous moon -
stars sparkling to a melody
flowing from the divine harp -
sea breeze carving
shifting sculptures on sands of gold -
amorous mirth of sea waves
rushing to the hug of a waiting shore.

I stood there,
a trance benumbing my senses
to an hypnotic bliss.