PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

dear poetry

you had me

from the very first pen stroke

even as trite and tired as you read

I was your slave from that moment forth

you needled my craving

and tantalised my fledgling rhymes

in your spider's games

I was the smallest fly

my mediocre education

in its own primitive way

taught me so profoundly

that I would grow

and the person who before only wrote

simple little rhyming poems

would be poet to all she knows

just a little more life she had to live

the school room is no chalk board for

experience

it can not be mistaken for

living

breathing

loving

traveling

seeing

working

tasting the truth and bitterness of life's swift

sweet flow

the poet essentially emerges with wings

from the pages of his every day life

and he removes his own eyes and hands them

selflessly over to his reader

to help them see the wonder that usurps

all else in his life

the beauty that translates itself within

the unbindable side of his beloved poetry..........

(written Oct. 23, 2002 945pm)