

My PoetHe reads Shakespeare, even in the early mornings When I am serene in dreams He is there by the window with the sunlight emblazoned on his face He awakens me before dawn, by his soft voice As he richly recites Hamlet, "To be or not to be . . ." I cannot recall any more than that Because as he finishes, I am already lost in him He glances at me with those gentle orbs of light Smiles reassuringly and I fall So deeply into the mask of enigma that he provides I am hidden behind the door of dimensions And only he possesses the key And knows the secret lingo that reveals the codMy Poet
Once again though, thank you for the Watch. I look forward to seeing what else you get up here, as I greatly enjoyed your first piece.
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