The young poet brings his children out of hiding from a desk drawer Lying on his bed curled under covers of flannelette blue sky and billowy clouds his muse inhabits her own personal heaven. In this crystal moment she glimpses his soul offered as a gift. He reads his poems to her beauty unfolding words not finite enough for what the artist senses always striving for perfection. She describes his in a single word ‘Brilliant.’ For once he does not argue accepting her compliment. With the darkening sky anxiety creeps over her it’s a long subway ride home “Let me read one more”, he pleads She concedes. Poetry is their bond. He shares his best self with her Poems. Children of the soul. Dreams of the heart.