Echos from the soul

​To some poetry is just jumbled words made to love beautiful. To some poetry is but a way to impress. And there are some to whom poetry is the very essence their everyday living hangs on.

Hats off to all those wonderful poets who have made our life colorful!

Here is a little something from your fan!
What madness is this thing,

Called poetry?

Where love becomes the sun and the moon

And the heart, the ocean blue

Where love becomes the seven seas,

The surfer quests to tame.

Spinning tales out of the crashing waves

Hoping for a footprint, in the sands of time
What absurdity is this thing,

Called poetry?

Delusional quotes carved

On the tombstone of the dead

Telling tales of lives

Of great men and of others

Of hope and hardships

Of lost lives in the struggle, called living.
What is this poetry? I asked.

The autumn leaves and its inner peace

The dancing rain and its untold joy

Take my breath away!

‘Poetry, my dear’, said the voice in my head.

‘..is all things beautiful’.

Then again, everything is beautiful.

In its own unique way.
The above is a humble tribute from a person who has spends many a happy moments in the company of poetry.

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