#3 Poetry: Drips

Poetry is a lovely drippage
From the eaves of the heart
Leaking to a pretty drain,
An evocation of feelings;
Poetry is like, a drop of rain.

Gathering a wreath of smoke
Revolving around the clouds
With lots of connecting links
Good for the steel and weakness;
Poetry is like, a drop of rain.

Drizzling slim, round and fat,
Each drop swell a desert eye
Of an owl, blind bat and cat,
Breezing from the windy sky;
Poetry is like, a drop of rain.

A to Z, silent and sound,
It is hot, cold, low and loud
Making most of attention
Felt in lively expression;
Drizzling in drips like a rain.

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