Just Poetry...Period

Poetry is setting yourself free
To pour out like vintage wine
The myriad thoughts that you see
And cup them in words and lines
To be drank in sheer revelry

Poetry turns you into a painter
Imagined scenes in the mind arrayed
Distant lands, places you remember
Colors of life so abundantly laid
The joy, and tears, or love's dying ember.

poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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