ALSphere Foundation
I hear voices of poets past
As I walk across this field of tulips bright
Yellow and red they merge together
Forming memories of yore when wordsmiths bloomed.
Of Yeats and Keats, Wordsworth and Shelley
Searched I for some inspiring muse
And found it among these tulip flowers
Heavens and rainbows, colours and hearts.
Drinking of the ecstasy they wrote about
Merging with the beds of dew-kissed flowers
My mind grows numb to everyday chores
As if no tomorrow there ever would be.
As Frost in Birches stated right
To come back to normal is what is right
I leave my tulip patches bright
To live with the taste of something divine!
