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Poem

Here comes the novice poet.
With [ Edna St. Vincent Millay and Elizabeth Barret Browning ]
He will remember what they say, and then will always Know it.
[ “ I will permit my memory to recall “ ][ “ How do I love Thee “]
I do believe, from here to death; You’ll never see me Frowning.

In step the “ BRONTE “ sisters; Charlotte, Emily, and Anne.
Come back from their Imaginary Land.
Speaking English; Not the language that they shared.
[“ To attack the first is not to assail the last “ ] As if they cared.

I see [ Alfred Lord Tennyson ] will he sign my copy of  “ The Poet “
Over there is [ Edgar Allen Poe ] and his Raven “Nevermore”
Exhilaration ends: I wake up, no one will ever know it.
I spent the night, a LOVEFILLED night: With many a Great POET.

Now that I’ve comeback from time, I have no words I have no Rhyme.
The paper, not a drop of ink. It looks at me with a BLANK STARE.
But now I do Bethink, that I should write something  THERE.
I just can’t write and think.

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