The Soul of a Poet
There's a poet that lies in every gentle soul,
With an ability, in expressing life's accounts.
Every event encountered to be interpreted,
Or in some, as of its drama, it so surmounts.
Writers of poetry all try to explain their views,
That of life's experiences, a meaning to them,
Whether it's in just of the struggling to survive,
Or of life to be so splendid, a glistening gem.
A poem may describe all things of a beauty,
As lovely as a painter's rendering, so divine.
Artists of the letter and the brush, all kindred,
Both products of the creator's, his own design.
All words and artwork come from deep inside,
Expressed upon the canvas and on the page.
Special revelations, in their own interpretation,
Presented in every fine work of art, of its sage.
There's a soul behind every fondest work,
These, each one, are to be seen before us,
One in being so very deep, yet as revealed,
Are before everyone's eyes. we are to trust.
Fathoming all depths, ours to comprehend,
Of those talents there before us, to apprise.
Everyone's perception, beyond all its limits,
That of its meaning, of its magnificent guise.
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