the beauty of poetry...

Poetry is a lady...

She weaves you into trappings
of warm sweet honey
Prodding,
creeping,
Tempting...
Rousing you to surrender at will

She's a fire, she's a blanket
Restless in her serenity
Her words are hips of waves...
She takes you up,
Scratches on your heart
A handful, she's purely
hard to manage
But an angel longing
For a place in your heart.