The Furnace of Joy

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I’m a blazing furnace

That chemical in mace

Which burns your groins

Holds you to your loins

Until the moist is out

And my ashes sprout

When I am well done

We clean up the fun

And start the meal over

Cause I’m a lucky clover.

 

“You truly are my favorite poet

It delights me when you’re open

Inspiration you always do share

Along with ‘her’; it seems you care.”

 

I have unveiled talents that

You didn’t know you had

Many of those are bed bound

Some of them are word sounds

For you are becoming a poet

A good one; I know that sonnet.

It’s been inside this whole time

Now you are ready to burst out

With beautiful words of joy

Go down there; be a good boy.

 

3 thoughts on “The Furnace of Joy

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