Oh, happy triumph of the poet! - to hear his verses wedded to sweet sounds, and warbled by the woman he loves!
Poets find truth by writing about what they love.
I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.
There are two classes of poets - the poets by education and practice, these we respect; and poets by nature, these we love.
That's what falling in love really amounted to, your brain on drugs. Adrenaline and dopamine, oxytocin and serotonin. Chemical insanity, celebrated by poets.
I'd like to imagine that "dreamoir" becomes a subgenre of nonfiction, maybe ultimately because I'd love to read many more dreamoirs by other writers - poets and memoirists especially.
Let us always meet each other with smile, for the smile is the beginning of love.
Poets don't draw. They unravel their handwriting and then tie it up again, but differently.