there is a way in the poetry of his mind
when he puts it on paper

painting scenes with colours
that i dare not touch
only admire from a distance
like a swath of silk billowing
on a late summer breeze
the undulations and dancing
shifting time into a pause
speaking sanguine
uttering in vividness


it is the way of his words
telling tales of all too real
to all too sigh worthy
spinning mind canvases full
far off lands with beautiful girls
the scents and sight delights
otherwise never to be experienced
yet he brings them with ease


it is the way of his words
and the journey through them
that catch the breath
spark the grin and stir
oceans of imagination
of remembrances
journeys and accounts
that gladly do i fall in step
travelling between the lines
along the way of his words

















thank you Mr. McKennon aka TropicalSnowstorm for many vicarious journeys

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