(Of poetry, I open up the book
Turn past pages of contents and title
Enter upon the plank and set sail, then...)
I am swept away by the writer's winds, further and further
Through seconds on the clock, minute unto hour
Too many times within your sea of balladry captivated
Myriad whirlwind passions slowed into simple thoughts enumerated
It is within my minds eye where I am most free
To travel the world of words you form from out of dreams
Sailing right along, verse by verse I fight with you in battle
And share amidst your victories and their spoils
Kinship it seems is our common thread upon these lines
However, by what you say more like the uncommon times
Each offer sometimes more delicate as a feather
But, upon me more often as if an inquisition are the others
Your stanzas measure like rhyming waves abashed
Tends to fill the bossom erroneous heartfelt heavier
Reminding me of the prisoner kept below that's masked
Clamped as iron maiden tighter and tighter
The curse from which behind
You; yourself still reside
Widened holes in observance of a world outside
But, can't reflect inward, past that of the poet's guise
And into every moment waking
You go on thinking and thinking
Within the netherlands of slumber too
Look around, I am standing here, right beside what is you
And your thoughts are read everywhere aloud
As they float up and off, into the open air of now
And with them like the wind, I am swept away further and further
Destination; another page, tomorrow and into poet's limbo forever