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Invisible Inspiration May 22, 2011

Filed under: Poetry — poetrybee @ 7:47 pm

Poetry is that number that you can’t dial

So sit back, relax, because it will take you a while

Music is the written words we are too afraid to speak

Poetry are the books on the top shelve we are too short too reach

It’s that class we can not teach

It’s the neighbor’s angry dog, hungry off its leash

It’s whatever you want it to be

From the house on the corner, or in the trees

It’s whatever you see it as

But when it blows your way, reach out and grab

It’s that special message that they send

It’s the colors that you blend

It’s hot, and it’s blazin’

It’s invisible inspiration

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