A pleasure looking at your darling face,
While I am carried away with talking.
So long ago we're wise and gray.
We're walking,
My love,
And there is no end to this grace.

Ah, poetry!
I am a sybarite,
An ageless boy over a sweet persimmon,
When unobserved, who touches passing women,
Making the day spiritually bright.

Don't envy, my pen-fellows,
When with muse
Nights spent in sailing on the seas of lightness.
My bliss will be discharged on the brightness
Of paper,
Telling sagas of our cruise.

I draw my pen, a double-edged sword,
The scabbard is sincerity and courage.
My bitter BYE!s and happy HI!s have marriage
Thanks to my pen, - I pray for it, my Lord.

Tell me:
'Forget the world, when at the desk,
Write,
Pulling quills from a light-feathered cloud,
Write truthfully of love
With faith and doubt,
Living in hearts poetic arabesques."

Gray deity,
When my last depart ensues,
Before I go from seas, fields, woods, and valleys,
I'll tell you
That our strolling by the alleys
I see as astral walks with you,
My muse.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...