Imagination Poem by Kevin East

I look to a swirling sky
For rhymes before they fly.
Yet
Beauty takes time,
Until a sunset mime
Floods my soul
To portray
Where imagination does lay.
Bury me
In silent prose.
And mark my grave
With the blood
Of a damask rose.
When all summer suns
Arrive in one morning.
And blue water runs,
With symphonies spawning
The music of heaven.
When all colours run black.
Before dawn will break,
It has to crack.
And rainbows run
Like pastel strokes
Of fire.
Hear the choir
Float their song
Over twilight bay.
As blue diamonds
Dispel the grey.
To twinkle where
Lost imagination does lay.
When I go deaf
To the shouts of pain.
As mediocrity rides again.
My mind is humming
Like a garden in july.
Guitars strumming
In the dreams
Of clouds floating high,
Kissed by the sun.
Then the moon whispers
Blue beams,
Before the world has spun.
To show the way.
Where lost imagination does lay.
When bitter tears
Dissolve the petals
Of blazing bouquet.
And empty rooms
Ring like bells
On a lonely sunday.
I am burned by the fire
Of a supernova calling.
Turned
By sweet raindrops
On flaxen hair falling.
With honey dew beauty.
And haunting strings
That play.
Finding my love
Where imagination does lay.