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O my poesy! Thy tip coos as Koel.
Thou my doting doses of vintage;
Thou art the dulcimer of my dreams
When I streak thou on the argent leaves,
Thy strings sway my thoughts and panache.
Oft truh' exotic voyages and core of silhouette.
Thy harmony, the zephyr spread the seed of nascent.
When I ponder in Sehnsucht and burried under lachrymal,
Thy meandering rivers mizzle from the skyline
That flurry of snow screeching in my mind.
Again thru' eldritch voyages and barren moors.
While i felt firm, thy arms blanket my brain.

O acushla bard! The words like beads, thou quill as forms
Thou rule the skies and clouds and I the tale of thy reign
Years were antiqued and I still rein the hours,
O Virtuoso! Thy rhyme spring me high
Mine voice though subtle never mounts the taint
To grant the gratitude, my minstrels will roar me aloud.
Humane eyes and brainless brains, thou carved mine,
O awed poetry! I penned of myself
I praise mine visage renting all my senses away!
But thy thoughts always urge me to think,
Thy pantoums and poesies art thy praises.

O the pulse of my artful mind! I could hear thy minstrels.
Scribbling with salty and spicy fringes inks on white leaves,
Nay tis is not the only choice to expell
Tis a sequel that sweeps my mind, as rabid but a still desire.
I kiss the stars everytime the readers run on thy contour;
I thrive every sky when red ink encircle their idol lines.
Thou the brain of mine crumpet, thou shalt load mine art;
Thou art the legacy of my life, an epic of my armour;
Thru' the ivory varnish of mine toggery, thou art the spotlight.
Thus glide mine quill of words far to the demon's heath,
And plunge with thy chattel of beads to angel's mount.

O my Lord! Thine ballad a word of the day, thou ensured.
Thy chords shalt rhyme and reign the triumph;
Thy words spring with sprouts that knock each human door;
And I shalt coo thy son, a day the world is green,
As a sphere with mundane garth of the mindless men.
Shall exult thy sacred pen and celebrate the days bygone.
Let thy noble ink walk on every shores in midst of souls unwise,
And a day thy noetic fire shalt burn the Satan.
Thy soul In the throne of heaven must rejoice and rapture;
Embolden mine vehement and abysmal deeds on earth
And thy soul spark as stellar fleck at the lunar sky..

About this poem

The work submitted showcases the relationship between a poet and their poetry(personified). The love and affection towards poetry is portrayed in Poetry as a form.

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Written on May 05, 2020

Submitted by malavikab03 on August 15, 2022

2:19 min read

Quick analysis:

Closest metre Iambic hexameter
Characters 2,283
Words 464
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 12, 11, 11, 11

Malavika Balasubramanian

Malavika is a Literature Student, who clutched her pen as armor at the age of thirteen. Author of the book 'Lights from the Misty Mind', which fletched her the 'India Prime Award 2022' and 'Ukiyoto Poet of the Year Q22'. For her literary contributions she was recognized and honored with the GlantorX Best Writer Award 2021. Her passion for penning poesy has continued ever since and has co-authored fourteen International Anthologies. Her works were appreciated by the Association of Global Academicians and Researches. more…

All Malavika Balasubramanian poems | Malavika Balasubramanian Books

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    "Unwise" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 23 Mar. 2023. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/136991/unwise>.

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