Poetic Paradise

A different kind of soul mate always stays

With its stanzas and lines

Yet interpretation can not be defined

When I read the rhymes and the prose on the page

I find myself home

A lovely dwelling place

We met when I was something teen years old

In high school in English class

We read so many greats at last

Tennyson, Lord Byron, Yeats and Dickinson

Barret Browning, Burns love is like a red red rose

With the flower I was consumed

The love started to bloom

With the prose

I felt myself transform

A ray of sun at the end of a lonely storm

I had drifted in the sea wondering if I would ever discover me

Then the sweet poetry was the truth to set me free

Yet the craft remains a mystery

When ever we meet it always feels sweet

There is no fight. We walk together as one in this life

In eternity of poetic paradise

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Ah the love of poetry. I love how you give it a semblance. A living embodiment that can be loved. In stanza, lines, and words. This was a joy to read and makes me recognize the same love I have for the art form. Thank you for sharing this poem of yours.

[butterfly]

Thanks for the review! Thanks for reading I am glad you enjoyed. I am honored this poem made you recognize the same love for poetry.