In a realm where tender rhymes repose,
Where words and images gracefully compose,
There resides a poet, moved deep within,
Artfully stirring, surrendering to creativity's din.
He weaves tales of love, sorrow, and delight,
Of yearning dreams and moments bathed in light,
His verses flow like untamed, wild rivers,
Enveloping souls, revealing depths that quiver.
Yet some fail to grasp the delicate thread,
That effortlessly weaves through his words widespread.
They mock his dreams, devoid of worth or grace,
As if his art were futile, a meaningless chase.
Undeterred, the poet stands daring and bold,
His words, a stellar panorama to behold!
Unfazed by scorn, contempt, and disdain,
His poems, noble jewels, endlessly reborn again.
Deep within, he knows, beyond a doubt,
That art and poetry shape his world throughout.
Unlocking thoughts, stirring his very soul,
Granting sacred purpose, making all whole.
The laughter of others shall fade with time,
For the beauty of his words transcends any chime.
They carry him beyond doubt and pain,
His writing lifts him, soaring through the ethereal plane.
True poets persist, they never cease,
Writing their deepest thoughts, seeking release.
Through their words, a divine bridge to existence,
They find solace in their poetic sanctuary, pure and intense.


© Max von der Heydt. All rights Reserved.