Words of poetry are like flames of incense burning in time,
taking you through chambers of treasures.
To lands of goblins and dragons,
of mermaids and elves.
The rain queen pours into the chrysanthemums,
giving them new life.
Rhythm.
Resting her sequined tiara,
on the banks of the river,
where streams of words flow toward the distant mountains of a million stars.
Shan's blog 