The Poets Brush
Lord help me write and paint my words
My Lord My Lord, I say to you this night
Help me now, help me write
Paint my words to help me guard!
Help me to paint the stars.
Paint my life to share the hearts
Ah the silent presence that many know so well
All hungry for life to tell
As we understand the universe
There will be but a few to survive the strokes
Help me go deeper in my little corner
To paint my brush as a Poet:
The tears we cried
The love we have known
The blood that’s been shed
The hearts been broken
Is just a few of the brush strokes
Of this little poet;
Little Brooke that I am
I can’t compare to the great Bronte
Or the most famous Emily Dickinson
The best of the best Ernest Hemingway
Especially fabulous Keats
And what can we say of Shakespeare?
I say to you my dear.
The Frost of winter or the writer;
And oh my stars
There is Robert Louis Stevenson
To brush your words with the paint of life
To touch our souls with your light
To kiss the stars of the night
To remember
David in the book of Psalms and
Solomon Song of Solomon, to name a few.
To love the best of yourself;
How dare me I say?
How dare I stay?
Give me your pictures on the wall
The smallest of the small;
A membrane today;
Maybe
I don’t know
But what would you say?
To a Poets Brush for this day;
Dedicated to all the poets on Soup..
Brooke Dylan 2014
Copyright © Brooke Dylan | Year Posted 2014
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