Remain True
Letters fall into place of words,
Comes naturally by grace,
Gifted in the penmanship.
A poet is born for such a time as this.
Bushy eyes fight the limited opening,
Reading on.
Mind invites the heart.
When the spirit flows,
The reader is one with the ink master,
Loyally is established.
Beginning of all what the poet may travel.
Between the publishers & the critics?
Believe not.
Faithfulness dwells in two,
Not so much the reader.
The uncommonly one,
Poetess.
Soul travel is a must of never-ending walk on Poetic Earth.
Heart indeed to see beyond one's point of view,
Yet remain true.
Spirit into the flight,
Rubbing fingertips with the Foundation of the Blessed Untouched.
Homestead in one place,
Homeless the poet will find in the final hours.
Loyally of the readers?
I do believe relationships goes two ways...
Clever new magical words,
Casting spells only last a season.
Sweet nothing into the ears,
Treated like a woman who has heard it all.
The mist to an end.
Fame simply dies,
And the readers move on...
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