Curtains soaked with the yellow of sun,
Sudden symphony of an awakened alarm,
Drag the slumber from corners of
The intoxicated eyes of a poet.
And place an intense whisper on the
Edges of his fortunate palms,
“Hold the pen now to brighten the day.”
'The intoxicated eyes of a poet'; but, with the hope of the Ink. Nice work.
OUTSTANDING..Soaked in your beautiful thoughts......Like Curtains soaked with the yellow of sun Bell of your poem ringing to wake-up and read and We open your profile page to check your fresh and awesome poem...............Wonderful poem...100+++
The emotions of a poet intoxicate him when absorbed in flight of his imagery. It can be morning, night, evening or afternoon. For him at that particular moment time stands still. Nice poem. Enjoyed reading. Thanks for sharing.10 points.
I do all my writing late at night my mind doesn't work till after a coffee lucky you-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Morning sun stands witness to the enchanting call at the poet's door who would like to hold the pen for another productive move. An amazing quote: Drag the slumber from corners of / The intoxicated eyes of a poet