Tuesday, 18 February 2014
The spotlight needs no change of heart
to happen, to perform its gust.
The spotlight is from heart apart,
utility its power, just.
But I know well another light,
which naturally makes you warm.
It takes you to portrait and sight
revealing not a simple norm.
I talk speak of fire of the earth.
That light is artificial not.
I talk speak of light earth given birth.
To gain it is transformed a lot.
That light to be in is a kick!
No spotlight may replace the joy.
The spotlight, cold, should make you sick!
Well. It, at least, should make you coy!
[Corrected June the 1th 2015 at 02:01.]
This poem is published on my site "The poetry of Vaccinius" | here |.
I have put a link to this post on the blog hop of "dVerse" | here |.