Poetry looks like a mysterious woman waiting for the A train. Poetry smells like the aroma of a different country. Poetry tastes like the sip of a beverage when you are blindfolded. Poetry feels like the anticipation of the end of a good novel. Poetry looks like something smooth guiding a boat through smooth waves.
Poetry tastes like a peach smooth and sweet.
It makes you wonder what is coming next. It has the smell of a ripe tomato or a rotted prune. The taste is strong and sour like a lemon. The sound of traffic makes me think of poetry. Poetry looks like a brand new book that was not opened but will soon be read.