PETER’S LIST

When in your heart is poetry

It's all you have to say

It's the way you find your answers

and must communicate

And when those words are taken

Just like they were from me

Life is empty without meaning

Like a noteless melody

Now most poets are merely useless

Without what we call a muse

They fill us up with answers

And with ideas from which we choose

Reaching out to pull them down

From those thoughts we see up high

Filling us full with questions

And with the words to answer -

Why?

If you are a  dancer you feel alive with company

If you are a cellist you feel alive with symphony

If you are a painter you feel alive in artistry

But if you are a writer

You feel alive - in poetry

Now that I feel alive

All I want is time to be

Alone with all these words

And  the muse that lives in me

So I can paint a picture

In 12s and then 14's

Dancing round with Verbiage

In perfect symmetry

Filling out the concert hall

With my perfect imagery

So God - grant me a long life?

Give me some time to be

Your megaphone, your Metatron

I'll find a way to make them see

And if that I should fail

I'll still fill you up with bliss

For by when the end times come

I'll have finished

Peter's list