There is music found in poetry
Music read, but still it's heard
In such a far away country,
This music of the spoken word.
We're all nearly mute until
It starts to speak it's name,
Our senses know it as more real
Than real, a sound we cannot tame.
Speak through me, song of the ages,
Sing out your heart, soaring through heaven,
For the poets be rare seers and mages,
The bread of their word never leavened.
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