Good light

Who's that old Man In the Mirror It's no one I recognize In there not that I care, for It's Not Me I'm alive with thoughts Of flowers and Birds of Nature There's still some pulsing Through my veir wild thoughts Of things I must share not dull Things poetry In words for all To read and stare who Is that Old Man In the mirror I don't Know, only In good light word Still sounds apoem like good Light I how cleaning doth Reading good Is my mood Prevented poems awarded a Poet I am purifies, popular Misty Morning wondrous twine Good light beauty constantly Prayed ago settled pure kettle Images pink and white once True and kind shadows yet More time passes silently Outside thee goodlight Preposterous wood cavernous.