Poetry

Words never vanish!

Vaudeville making them vacant,

Yet never ending;

Odds connecting the unsung,

Left the words to be sung.

These feelings form a cage,

That looks more like a mage.

Sheer merge forge the balladry,

Which cause me to sit on the balcony;

Recalling the colloquy,

The engender induced by the topiary:

And the touch of nature, 

Fabric the feelings to be poetry.