In the garden of his mind, a world unfolds,
Where angels dance and tigers fiercely roam,
Through visions, fierce and gentle, he molds,
The heavens and the shadows of his home.

His pen, a bridge to realms unseen,
Crafting worlds with fire and grace,
In innocence and experience, he’s been,
A voice that time cannot erase.

Beneath the moon’s soft, silvery light,
He weaves the stars into his dreams,
Painting eternity with pure insight,
Where nothing is as it seems.

Blake’s spirit wanders, forever free,
In words that echo through the years,
A poet’s heart, as vast as the sea,
Whispering truths beyond our fears.