Sparks Without a Flame

I weave my life in verses, line by line,
With every word, I find my sustenance,
In poetry's embrace, my heart entwined,
I'm fed by thoughts, in rhythmic resonance. The words, they flow like sustenance for me,
In sonnets, odes, and verses interlace,
A banquet of emotions, rich and free,
Nourishing my soul, an endless grace. Though worldly treasures may evade my grasp,
In stanzas and in rhymes, I find my bread,
I've learned to thrive in life's poetic clasp,
For words are sustenance, the way I'm fed. With every poem penned, I find my feast,
In art's embrace, my hunger's finally ceased