Poetry,
like inspiration from a seed,
scent
away to a heavenly place.
Heavenly words.
You smell of
fresh-cut roses.
I put you in a vase.
You envelope;
gasp
into the glass haven;
grow
as poetic branches
shudder
and
shatter
the shards.
Your vines
embellish
the kitchen counter;
awaken
the sombre stove:
a light.
Written by: Flameheart
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The Fire in my Eyes: Poetry and Musings 