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The Dabbler



I may be but just a dabbler, upon a written page.

I may never see my words become great poetry of an age.



As I sit beore these keys to write a word or two,

I wonder if my dabbling will mean anything to you?



Will I somehow touch your heart

with the pictures from my soul?

There lives within myself a story, waiting to be told.



The obstacles of misspelled words, bad grammar and cliche

makes me but just "The Dabbler", as I write these words today.



How do I paint the picture without the artist's brush?

How do I tell the story, my vision not to be crushed?



Always to be a novice, a poet never be?

Now seems to be the greatest question awaiting to be seen.



My heart knows of the poet, that has yet to find her way

I may now seem to be but just a dabbler,

but the poet

lives

today.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I used to write at another site.  The critiquer's at that site ripped me apart.  I left there feeling as if I was not qualified to write upon a paper bag!
I must admit that I was a little upset when I wrote the above. I realize that it is hard to take criticism and you have to be thick skinned but these people seemed to delight in tearing the work apart.

I was discouraged and it took me awhile to decide that I would write for me and if I touched a few hearts along the way then that was all the better.

Within yourself lies the poet.  It is now up to each of us to try to find the words to make our poet seen.

~Lesa~

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last updated 11 October 2010 - 2:29am
©1 September 2002 - 11:20am — aspiringangel
25 July 2009 - 10:23pm — chris
chris's picture

We all worry about that.

You are a good writer.
I agree, every poem, I just love coming to see.
I know it is hard to take critics. I have.
Here, my dear, you are among friends.
You at this site, a delight.

25 August 2003 - 4:26pm — michael
michael's picture

Lesa, just stumbled onto your posts today while doing a search for poems about Kentucky, my home state. I like this post. It reflects my efforts also. Keep writing as I will also.

Michael Bahm

3 September 2002 - 8:36pm — Douglas Lazard (not verified)
Douglas Lazard's picture

Sis, There is so much I can say about this little piece of writing here...
WoW!... Where to begin?
First of all it boils down to just what the meaning of "Poetry" is to each individual...

If poetry is... Perfect meter, flawless grammer, precise spelling and a thinking process that can only come from a higher education... Then you and I and so many other blessed and talented poeple, are not poets!

But, if poetry is the bleeding process of souls that only know how to comunicate through the written word and cannot rest until we have somehow put these words and feelings into some form that we think matters, or will make a differance or will touch someone's heart in some way... What then are we...?

I Like to refer to us as "The town cryers of the universe" OR "The one's who's epics are filling the librarys in heaven"...

NEVER Think for a moment that you are not a poet! For you are one of the blessed ones... Who's words will live forever, in the halls that will remember the struggles of mankind!

I firmly believe that our words will live forever...

I know yours will!

Peace and love ~~~~ Dougie ~~