In the quiet of the night, words take flight,
Dancing on the page, a silent serenade,
In the moon’s soft glow, they find their light,
Crafting verses that time cannot fade.

Through the ink, emotions softly pour,
Each line a whisper, each stanza a song,
Painting dreams upon the paper’s shore,
In the realm of poetry, where hearts belong.

Metaphors bloom like flowers in spring,
Similes sparkle like stars in the sky,
Every syllable a delicate string,
Weaving tales as the moments pass by.

So let us write, let our thoughts be free,
In the tapestry of verse, let us find,
The beauty in the words that come to be,
In poetry, a reflection of the mind.