Words From a Poet
My soul knows you, for a kind word.
We write our poems to feel complete,
From poetry written, a heart is heard.
Though our eyes will never meet,
Our time with poetry, bittersweet.
Gentle hands stretch in silent mirth.
With poems held, from no address.
They slowly cross the spacious Earth,
These treasured writings that we possess,
To touch a heart, I will confess.
This gift we give from our gentle heart,
That we hope will bring a smile.
A poet who rambles, or worthy art,
Sharing wisdom, we find worthwhile,
As we seek to pause a life awhile.
These beautiful poems, written down,
To fill the reader's sense.
Of red sunsets like a flowing gown,
To paint a picture without pretense,
And show a poet's heart, at their expense.
contest English Quintain
8/21/15
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015
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