I have searched for poetry in every corner of the light.
I have searched it out in the shadows of evening
and in the silver reflections of moonlight.
I have orchestrated and waited for its’ arrival
Often sitting for hours, by candlelight,
Waiting for poetry to grace me with its’ voice.
Like a river rushing furiously forth
Chasing the scarlet leaf that has just turned loose from its love
I chase you, my love.