The scent of the wind The touch of the air Can only be described by a poet The taste of a word The sight of the unknown Can only be exposed by his writing How up is down And left is right Is a mystery to all but him When chaos is calm And everything in between Can not be explained to anybody else In the darkness He sees color and light In the cold of the winter He feels summer's warm breeze A dimmed light A candle of warmth All he has to offer others But in his head 'Tis a torching blaze -Trevor :) I had a lot of fun this month. I only had time (and memory :D) to do half of the prompted poems this month, but I saved my favorite idea for last! Thanks!