Poetic thoughts and emotions.
A POET AND A POEM
How long would a poem flit across a poet's lips?
Tongues! You are never tired of climbing up the hills.
Hearts! Are you really flirting in a drip of ink?
Times! Your carriages are never tired of running to blink.
Would a poet find a blanket made of silk?
Bitter beer wouldn't be as sweet as milk.
Poet! Who knows what you drink.
I might sleep not to rise in one morning's mint .
Could I be a poem recited by a rustling leaf?
Who knows how poems stretch a poet's skin.
What does a poem drink to climb up the hills?
A poet is a poem but who knows this.