Striking the match of intellect, watching fires blaze and
expand into other dimensions without a thought of how to
put them out.
A magnificent and delectable sensation that ends up ful-
filling my soul spiritually, time after time, thoughts
never entering the picture.
Only the after-effects being seen in poetry that I've
already written, hoping the world will find some energy
and caring from within the center of my heart.
Leaving it within every poem that's been written, so
quiet and pleasantly tantalizing intellect as I write
constantly and incessantly.
Nothing to interrupt or stop me ever, only when being
finished with the thoughts and ideas that I've written
will this pen stop it's incessant movement.
Leaving the ink of intellect for others to read, even
when I'm gone from this earthly life, beginning and
ending in every poem.
This mind will leave a little of itself wherever it
flows upon pages of my poetry journals, a legacy to
my sons to treasure forever and pass on to family.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem