The PoetA Poem by The Golden PenThe Poetby The Golden Pen on June 4. © Mary Aris, All rights reservedLike Shakespeare, the Poet writes his poem
With a steady hand round his yellow quill. Dreaming sensual dreams, his soul yells Speaking wisdom with bodacious words he fills blank pages into books-- pen in ink well; He burns the midnight oil as he writes-- A radical young rebel with new ideas, Staring out the window his fancy takes flight Like a dozen butterflies in velvet skies; His heart skips with each rhyme and rhythm From his quill as his words glide across the page His words paint a multi-coloured scene like a prism Reflecting his heart with the sagaciousness of a sage; Projecting love, hate, compassion with each stroke Like a craftsman he knits and weaves his words; Playing with the ancient language he spoke Not with tongue but with words to be heard Not by the ear, but with the eyes; The author, connives and schemes all day Knitting his brows he opens up his mind And listens carefully to the Muses' symphony; And then inspiration comes like the minnow. Spinning tales of love between a man and a woman, Making love in a small yellow dingy out at sea; The poet weaves each story with a crafty hand Into these lacy tapestries he calls Poetry; Like Shakespeare, taking pen to paper, The poet sits by the window near his lamp; And dreams of being a famous author; His name engraved upon his book like a stamp. © 2010 The Golden Pen |
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Added on September 3, 2010 Last Updated on September 3, 2010 AuthorThe Golden PenOxford, United KingdomAboutMy name is Mary Aris, A.K.A. The Golden Pen. I am an independent author and poetess. I have published three poetry books through Lulu.com. My books are available to purchase directly through the publi.. more..Writing
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