Kevin Michael Bloor

Poetry’s my life and breath.
It breathes beyond the veil of death.
Composed within clandestine caves
by phantoms from their ghostly graves.

Poetry’s the queen of love,
whose rhymes are blessed by God above.
It's selfless, sincere, never sham,
like lordly lion or little lamb.

Poetry’s my meat and drink.
It flows from feelings, and I think
it surges like a seething sea
of sacramental symmetry.

Poetry’s a megaphone,
a wizard's philosophic stone.
It never can be praised too much:
has Muse’s golden, Midas touch!

Poetry’s my right-hand-man.
It pens its pearls from precious plan,
and lays down metered verse in rhyme,
like lovely lotus grown in slime.

  • Author: Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 27th, 2022 06:20
  • Comment from author about the poem: for my poet friends
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 25
  • User favorite of this poem: Accidental Poet.
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  • Accidental Poet

    Wonderful Kevin. A view I happen to share with you. 😉

  • Christina8

    This is a really wonderful poem, I almost called it a "write" because most folks don't rhyme. But i love these rhymes and the line "Poetry's the Queen of love"..at least it is for me. Thank you for sharing this, it's wonderful!

  • Neville

    You just nailed this, our most precious artform & friend my friend ..N

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