Of love and poetry

"If poetry comes not naturally,

as leaves to a tree,

let it not come at all."

We meet past sunset

like smugglers of the night.

I forget duties, responsibilities,

To glance a chance of your smile.

Like Porphyria's lover

My mind too twitches

Battles violent thoughts

to bind you and keep you forever

and yet

"If poetry comes not naturally..."

Definite and untouchable like the horizon

marked is the line

between passion and obsession.

To be moved to forget the world

is a poet's dictum.

To forget oneself, costs the soul...

I avert my eyes,

walk the other way.

Feelings come to the living

as leaves to a tree.

Still I toe the line,

struggle to kill the agony.

Write in abandon

of mirth and hurt and blurt and scribble

Offer everything from the sky to the ground.

Break nibs and hearts alike

Write love letters till mailboxes overflow.

Patiently I wait for your return.

But, Beloved, if you are not to come with open arms

Let poetry not come at all.

The above poem is for the NaPoWriMo2022. Day 3. The prompt was to write a glosa poem that responds and uses a verse from another poem. But I've already done an "in-response" poem before so I chose to poetise one of Keats's famous axioms and tried to work with it. It was a busy day and I'm not sure if Keats would've loved this but I did my best.