He’s ekphrastic and fantastic,
in fine form, and free verse, too.
He can slant rhyme or ottava rima
(I don’t know what that is? Do you?)
He quadrilles us, and he thrills us
(and he fell in love with the sevenling).
He’s prolific, and profound
in the way he causes words to sing.
He’s penned of (ant) wars and of
distant shores and of paintings and
of Valkyries. He’s from dust of book
-shelves and many selves and tea at 9.
Dappled sunlit trees. Whirls of winds.
(In)sincerity and ice. He’ll slice you a
phrase or two, brew you some poetic tea,
and make you want to stay all day.
A most admirable, adored poet.
He writes in his second language,
but you’d never, ever know it.
Another one for dVerse secret admirers. More of a teaser riddle with many hints, as I don’t think I could emulate his incredible style if I tried. 😉