The Twilight Poet Poem by Vanessa Kingsley

*HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH TWILIGHT! ! ! *
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Watch for the poems; that flow to thee like words
Watch as the sun goes gently down, like graceful hummingbirds.
Watch as the woods, cast dark, enticing shadows
And watch for the pregnant doe, which hides down in the meadow.
A candle slowly flickers, wavering for sure.
As the twilight poet, writes her every word.
She glances at the full moon, and weeping willow trees.
She looks toward her paper, and imagines a giant sea.
The twilight poet drops, her favorite quill and sees,
Her own reflection, in that giant sea.
Teardrops fall from her eyes, but only she can see.
That deadly, treacherous, and evil, always knowing sea.
Picking up her quill,
She dries her weeping eyes,
And continues to write the poem,
Much to her surprise.
The wind it howls and groans
Her cabin, cries and moans.
Realizing she's all alone.
The poet goes to sleep.
As you read this poem
Think of the twilight poet.
And that twilight poet
That twilight poet's me.