Starlight

A hundred times the twinkle has been laid across the sky,
the immeasurable space within the mind were imagination shines,
those stunning insight pinpricks from the muse's fingertips
erupting in visionary fireworks of fancy sprinkling the head
in cosmic array of image constellations stirring their song of light,
all the poetic tales shining inside that give birth
to hope and magic through any night.

By quill they are intuitive dots connected in verses,
splendor's glaze combing the spirit,
igniting a shimmer of ecstasy
where only blank pages was once spread.

Fairies arise upon the ivory sheet,
unicorns and elves make their presence known,
though the heart is where it all becomes a universe,
love flowing through the summoned spells of imagination,
finding jewels in every expression,
daring to belief in the impossible.

It is the starlight of pure invention,
galaxies touched by the soul's fanning wings
told in precious stanzas rich in the honey of elation
by an embrace of life,
dwelling beyond the pillars of reality.

Not the gold that lines the pockets,
but it gives wealth to one's passion,
reminding how as long as there is fantasy in our ink,
that child who never grows up
will always bring enchantment to our day,
called a dreamer by those who are dead to tomorrow,
ever clinging to the pure euphoria of enlightenment
is to have the vitality to never stop chasing rainbows,
just because it is better than worrying about digging graves,
and all apart of the poet's joy
from the many contests you've hosted,
which are ladders to our inventive stars.