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TIME FOR POETRY
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BUT DAD, HE'S A POET
The time for poetry
passed in
simple rhyme and rhythm
after reason
and treason
in the faltering sky
Aphrodisiacs dressed
surprises
of the goals
searching for limits
never finding
a single reason
reaching for stars
held under the night
raging firestorm
of the glistening days
of final truth
If I Write
.
under those temporal conditions, stars would relocate to under night skies. :D
I do believe you could move
I do believe you could move the stars if you really wanted to.