The Final Stanza
 
My heart and soul laid out for thee
Each word is a wind blown pollen
It searched for me through sharp thickets
It landed in my empty dreams of yore
 
My life didn’t belong to me anymore
It became a playground for the spirited
From crying bushes and laughing streams
They sucked me up into their rousing lives
 
They moved my thoughts and my still desires
They told me poetry was a step into the beyond
A mysterious romp into the unknown
A seductive journey flying into the next heart beat
Pulling me into the rhyme of thought and its
Eternal aftermath, with its multifarious capabilities
 
The final stanza is not the final stanza
It is a voice within me saying
“Go hither with no end in sight
Each word shall be a seduction
A temptress pulling you into her
Enchanting caves and futures beyond.”

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