Poetothemics

Listen my dear friend, No magician can make Moon, a beautiful lass. But a poet can. No device can grasp The language of celestial But a poet can. You know! How he dug out the beauty From sorrow and melancholy Mixed it with wine and enjoyed. And he, enjoyed the song of her, language which was not known to him. And He, depicted spirit of French revolution As a spiritual bird.An Albatross. My friend busted and questioned to me. 'What device they the poets keep? How they operate these devices? ' I replied.. Poets are caged with moon And drinks the beauties of nature With the colour of his own eyes And thus making the painting on Imagination canvas..vase of nature That speak and stick in the thought Of the reader, Poets are holy I want to be a poet, to bring the truth and guide I am half lunatic and rest half I suffer with my own folly own folly! Colours of life keepeth the insect A visionary Insect, What it is called -A Vinsect, And when a vinsect bites to a poet Poetothemics is activated. 'Never heard such words before! ' Asked my friend Wow made a noise Now you heard from me! Finally he laughed and said Knew a creature I must call them -A nature's freak ............***...........