Sometimes, praise like moonbeams
Shower our writer's paths with rays
That touch our many reached-for dreams
And refresh our rather routine days.
While it may bless, renew our reason
Ignite our writing with blazing fire,
Using this pen and drinking its passion
Can sometimes court Jealousy and Ire.
Our words expose the revelation
That the human heart is truly the throne,
Of the Self that seeks exaltation
Some get bitter with the praise others own.
All rights reserved~~~Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~06.22.15
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem