An Ode to the Unseen Poet

And there remained His unseen poem.

Metre, devices, rhythm and theme.

Moderate Words, meaning extreme.

Something is twisted whether we know him.

But the very vellichor reminds us the name.

The unaltered depth in Amorist's pen.

He writes thousands thousands for ten.

Challenging, twisted, an anonymous frame.

His coruscant ink can do wonders for art.

A marvel in art..........he is himself an art.

A sunbeam and a moonlight, dreams and shadow.

Together, all rhyme in His crafted meadow.

The butterflies burble and the flowers balter.

How beautifully in two hearts, the words alter.