08-01-2019, 08:23 PM
The first line is borrowed from an old Quixillated poem...
What is poetry
What is poetry, if not word
whorls, worlds of imaginings,
the scent of a rose, of you,
in verse like whirling dervishes
trapped in the light?
What is it, but skirmishes
of syllable and rhyme
on pages set alight with the sight of you,
the light of you,
evening’s star first come to view?
With you, I begin anew.
What is poetry
What is poetry, if not word
whorls, worlds of imaginings,
the scent of a rose, of you,
in verse like whirling dervishes
trapped in the light?
What is it, but skirmishes
of syllable and rhyme
on pages set alight with the sight of you,
the light of you,
evening’s star first come to view?
With you, I begin anew.