The Poet

For the poet who occasionally reads random works on the streets of Manchester

She sees the world
Through eyes of art,
Translates it into
Words of heart,
So you, and I,
And he and she
Can sneak a peek
At what she sees.

Her words are worlds,
They're hearts
And souls.
That come to life
When she's alone.
Alone but for her poet's pen.
And then the magic starts again....