How does one "talk" of  "feelings"/ when Love is Poetry.

Between me and a forest
The lies a pound
Full of lily paddies
And reflecting the
Fore as a mirror
I can so see my self playing
My guitar
Here

I got my drivers license
So I can drive myself crazy
So you don’t have to

The golden sun
Sets on the oceanic view
Kissing the traveler
That fumbled his way
through the soft sand.
The traveler mourned
for the touch of his
spouses warm embrace
But all he could
do was watch her
From his unearthly plane