Your songs are like An angel's harp One thousand horns Blown by Israfel Your dance is like A water drop Naiads on water lilies Exalted by the daffodilies Your bust be like Two moons Cosmic sculptors Chiseled thee And your eyes Shine divine Minerva's light With Athena's likeness Casting shadows on your lips Which hold such earthly depth Greece and Rome Wax and wane At their reign And at their wealth Dost thou ever be Like Narcissus? Caught in a bubble Of one's own reflection In thine beauty And thou's graciousness? Dost thou ever wish To swim in one's own Rivers of hair? And embrace that endless black To which the night cannot compare? If only the milky way And the starry sky With Venus and her Sibling planets Could match the gleam Of your eye Or the music Of your play To your mountains I wish to be a tenet Like those gods who Lived upon Olympus Can't I be a single hair Upon those curves At which the angels stare? Or a single tear Twinkling like sapphire As it dwindles past your ear? Just sharing in your beauty To which there is no peer? Glory to the Unseen That said there’d be A bounty such as you As to the Mysterious Who painted the sky Its luminous blue Blessed be the poet Who bares witness To the unfolding of the True You are the dialectic of history Bearing fruits of majesty
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Why would you stop writing poetry? You’re doing so good.