Porcelain deep blue nightfall, Venus inspiring, golden poetess, years passing, your newborns were deeply rooted oaks nourished by your body, your soul of queenly benevolence, days into years, decades, as the clamor of children faded into the preserving recesses of your home, once so full of their childhood, you scribbled poems between duties, verses stashed away, now vintage, tied with shimmering ribbons, as you begin to write again, your renewed creative season unfolding ~ as your youngster grandchildren so much cherish, "Poetry Time."