When the Poet's soul is moved,
Nothing can stop it!
It gushes forth,
Obedient, to no rule,
It's some undefined
Force,
That does it.
Like the unraveling
Of a golden spool,
Could it be Love,
That does it?
Yes, you are very right. When soul of poet moves, poetry flows continuously. Undefined force defines love. Wonderful poem is brilliantly presented. Yes, love does it silently....10
Sandra, we must stop to think with your ink. A poem that puts us on our toes. Pirouetting inside, we cannot deny that there is a mystery in the flow of creative poetry. Well penned. ++10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Could it be why the bird sings? Creators create! ! ! Encantadora, come estas? ando en las montanas y la ciudad jamas! Cada dia Sangria pa' ti cada dia alegria pa' mi! FREE FREE FREE