Nature is ever at work building and pulling down, creating and destroying, keeping everything whirling and flowing, allowing no rest but in rhythmical motion, chasing everything in endless song out of one beautiful form into another.

I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.

At night, fishermen are paid for their hard work with one of the Pacific's greatest views-the gates to the heavens above. Hawaii's remoteness to the rest of the world leaves the skies unpolluted by man's industrial byproducts and artificial light known on the mainland. A man can actually look back in time when he gets far enough away from the shores of Hawaii and leaves modern society behind. He will find a sky above him before the hustle and bustle of mankind, a place where a stunning display of rhythmically twinkling stars are the norm and planets lay boldly pronounced. Shooting stars are commonplace and so is the humbling feeling a man gets when looking at this masterpiece before him. The boat churns up neon-green phosphoresce that glows in the water below like fireflies. When the ocean is calm enough and the moon dark enough, it is completely impossible to tell where the earth ends and where the heavens begin.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of beauty.

I would define in brief the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.