Poetry...Just think...
How the words leap out at you from the page
The sounds and echoes of syllables and verbs engage
In a warfare of similes and metaphors
The passion...yes!
How something so lovely like a lass
Passing by causes the eyes to reach out
And the mind to grasp paragraphs of imagery
A happy-ever after of a fairytale that was meant to be
Only the gift from an entity above could bless a human
With such clever word description
Verbs and diction give sentences rhythm and melody
Like verses and scriptures
A word, a picture, a book, a masterpiece
Rivers of letters, and together they flow
Sailing on a boat through a brainstorm
Every raindrop is an idea that the brain forms
Explain poems
Defined as emotions on the end of pens
Writing is our way to speak
And the paper is who we vent to
Poetry was meant to be, or at least eventually
What I see in my mind
A divine connection with the man that kept living
Gave the gift that keeps giving
To men who keep sinning
And yet he still speaks to us
If we sit still and listen
Poetry...
A folded letter, or maybe a buried treasure
A journal, a bible
A spoken word from God exciting the ears.
