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Metaphors of A Free Poet
Leaves shine their best
In the fall,
When they are dying.
Days grown cold
Are left behind,
While the sky comes around to crying.
Shadows can only show
True beauty,
Scattered in rays of the sun's light.
While nature's darkest picture
Is the moon hidden behind clouds,
On a chilled and rainy night.
What sets the soul
Of the poet free?
- the lack of law to conformity -
To bend and blend at will
Time with eternity;
Outter inspiration with inner ability.
Some times (with surprise) arrive
With no name,
Leaving only questions to ponder
Why they came.
Words in cryptic ways
May design delicate days,
Adorned with wonders so brief
Bringing just the slightest spiritual relief.
If even one soul
May find,
In some word I've pressed
A small peace of mind,
Or see just a glimpse
Of beauty so divine,
Then what I have sought
Of all that I feel,
(written metaphorically)
Shall finally become real.
This beyond all else
Is what sets the soul free,
Within the likes
Of a simple poet... like me.
poem
by
Smoky Hoss
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