Upon the midnight hour, so very dark

I wrote the poem you now see,

tracing the outlines of my soul,

painting the fragrance that is me

I do not care to use pictures

to show what the words create inside,

the mind imagines what pictures cannot,

of the Poet who will not hide

I ask not for fame or sympathy

nor even for a new Lover to come close,

grant me writing ears and eager eyes,

so words in poetry bloom like a rose

Such beauty there is in this world

for me Poetry comes out in melody,

music moves my romantic heart,

like sirens calling out to the sea

Words whispering can be sweet or dangerous

like a Romantic stare or Horror too,

I breathe in each word a new path

from the forest of words, to Women like you

So many will read the words and move on

only a few will hear their Muse tonight,

Gentle Beauties, take me only as your friend,

let my fragrance bring you new light