The Poesy Is My Viand

Abrasion of trumperies shan’t faze thyself

Divers emetic and infernal tunes have naught to espy.

It must not be commixed with intact sounds!

Ado befalls on thee.

Perchance one may be retentive and reticent-------------------

------in the boscage, besotted together with the medicine man.

Adjourn, if one must. The truism of thoroughfare enumerates.

Spake with alacrity and without errs.

Once again one was fulfilled with delirium of joy.

One Way to Compose. Pictures in Words

Tintinnabulation is an area to wonder,
Where an answer speaks
In the sublunary region of the sounds;
Music. One shan’t unearth a manuscript of any worth

Possessing an inborn urge to diverge and deviate
Only oneself can divide the colours and make them appear.
Music offers and utters the idea of love in a dynamic force.
But who can thoroughly comprehend.

It’s a torrid story to be untold
See the toil transforms aglow
Sweetest voice shall beguile me;
Undine, you are so fair