You are walking poetry
because your strides are like stanzas
your eyes speak of rhythms
and staring would bring bonanza.
You are walking poetry
and to hold you would be to read
El Dorado of literature
a safe haven which bleeds--
a kanon nonetheless
[to which my muse I digress]
That you-- are like a bookstore in the fall
and I can read your old and new
of past cries and yesterday\'s highs--
to which are only of the few
that can keep me awake all night.
and as I sit on the steps
to which births my poetic sense
I listen to the summer wind that Matt Elliot blows
as the sound of the flying plane grows--
Closer, to the mother of art, to which brightens these nights.
You are walking poetry
Exaltation in sight.-
Words that define fauna and flora
As your existences pours a soft water night.
You are the nostalgia of children chasing
on the streets of neighboring familiarity
To which glows on your skin-- and brings an iridescent rarity
of quiet trails and daylight\'s croon.
You are poetry in motion
The purple lavenders of June.
The quiescence of winter- and the zestfulness of spring.
you are the morning birds that awake me with a sing
But alas I know that the morning birds will fly
And all that breathes with thee will die.
But I do not worry that it will stop
And I do not wary of the time.
Because you--- are walking poetry
You--- are pure literature crime.