Taking ears to where music moves
to where the air is choir mistress.
Where roses rolls; the ocean.
Where the morning is new
from a mid night travel.
To where hands held different sounds.
To where beats from beauty-good
loving lyrics connotes the full.
Taking eyes to where beauty borns.
To where nature is to mature.
A future full of life.
To where the field gives colours.
The young and tall.
Where the buds is there to fall
and thy body very soft.
Taking lips to what is sweet.
To where thy tongue is thy lord.
To bed sweet meals from
all gifts of nature.
To where beauty borns
the lord's climax of creation.
Ebi Robert
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/creator-s-league/
