If You Were... a Poem

by Blue and Truedessa

If you were a poem, what kind of poem would you be?

Would you be a secret poem eyes will never read,

Your writer too ashamed to set your spirit free

Cause love's a crooked thing, indeed?

Oh say it isn't so, dear True ─  you would not stop for death,

Eternal lines that linger on beyond your breath.

And though every fair from fair sometime declines,

You would be akin to everlasting wines,

Not a name upon the strand for waves to wash away;

Not a fleeting moment for amorous birds of prey;

But a single-minded work of joy for all the world to see,

Cause a thing of beauty is a joy forever,

And for you to fade away... oh never!

So, tell me, what kind of poem would you be?

If I were a poem, what kind of poem would I be?

I'd be an epic poem discovering the beauty of me

the song instructs the soul, and charms the ear

poetry from the heart, my writer would hear

Love's a Crooked Thing, indeed,

stealing your heart, leaving you alone to bleed

So, tell me, what kind of poem would you be?

Would you be a Shakespearean Sonnet

composing words, the way you wanted

interlocking quatrains in the rhymes of life

would the couplet at the end bring delight

shall I compare thee to a summer day

would love finally find its way

Perhaps, an Ode To The Book

would readers understand the hook

Love I learned in a single kiss

words of passion others may miss

my poems have not eaten poems

they devour exciting happenings

in a realm of wild imaginings.

So, tell me, what kind of poem would you be?

If I were a poem, I'd whisper colored air and find my way to you,

determined to extinguish all things blue.

If you're the dreamy type, I'd ring forever true,

more so than a sonnet or an elegy.

You'd read my words (ignite the fire that will set you free!)

and off you'd go on purple sounds toward a common sky.

Just fly.

If I were a poem, oh how I'd fill your heart with splendor,

tangible for those who dream of you, who dream of being you,

as you blaze across the firmament and coin new constellations:

Words can do so much.

They'd trigger journeys to the end of space and time,

A golden ribbon of lace with patterns so refined;

they'd make mere mortals choke as you climb, climb, climb ─

words that fuel your heart, creating True reality.

So tell me...

what kind of poem would you be?

* * *

As you climb, climb, climb