Poetry is a flower, indeed-
Blooms within a poet's mind;
Poetry nourishes life in need
When comes the stormy wind.

Poetry needs a reckoning hand,
A hand to caress it's body and soul.
Poetry seeks itself a land
When it's saviour plays a better role.

Poetry is the song of never-ending life
Speaks of veiled truth;
Let it not live ephemeral life
Let it not be uncouth.

Pijush Biswas

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poetry-337/