Why do my poems be like water rushing in a rapid I seem to love four four letters in a row four lines in a tow Why do my poems be like joyful bursts of sporadic laughter short sweet fragrant after as if they need reader till writer greets Why do my poems be like dreamy sunrise on mountain summit I seem to have taken the road hither nobody seldom goes thither Why do my poems be like hazy reflections upon silent sea roaring rolling beneath before perhaps the one sought perhaps the one aft