The Creative Moment of the Poem
The poet sits facing the reader across a table. They eye each other. The poet says, ‘Everything depends on our virtue. It is essential that we maintain a large benefaction. We are not here for long and the self’s advantage is a bitter hurt eventually. The very fabric of our perception rests delicately on our love. If we lose its purpose, even in the gloss of a leaf, horror is let loose on the world.’
KeywordsSyntactical Relation English Poetry Cricket Ball Syllable Count Modern Poetry
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