The Poet

[Namyh]

The Poet

The Poet, as master of creation, sculpts with words from ideation. 
A poetic human lens under Sun
who must concentrate its rays and in bold exquisite ways
tug the Heart and pluck its strings one by one.

In a foxhole words of Courage, out in Space words of Hope,
on a deathbed poet’s words to feel alive
are the jewels within a chest from the heart and head and breast
of a poet’s driven quest to pen the scribe.

And even when ‘no inspiration’ is the poet’s root frustration
and no wind to make a flag of words unfurl,
Time will tilt the lens to daylight
bending words to pinpoint insight
and one breath will hurl that scribe across the world.

So embrace the poet’s mission, as you write with proud submission
to this self imposed commission that occurs.
So that when you speak of Beauty, Love and Death, Truth and Duty,
you’ll make Shakespeare smile with tears and love your words.

Namyh

[rowens]

This really is fun to read.

It is. Usually, this Section of the site is meant for humorous poems, or poems by insecure people who assume that they are a joke.


You're not a joke, friend. This is a fun poem.

With a few tune-ups, it could be Serious Critique material.
Of course, it wouldn't be unless you posted it there.

[Namyh]

rowens - Puts a big smile on this old scribbler that you had fun, a human component known to melt insecurities which are indeed no joke! Thanks rowen for spendin’ a spell here to enjoy. I’m feelin’ better already! Namyh