A Poet's Pipe
A poet’s pipe is the well of wisdom,
Carved briarwood packed with words,
And tis the flame of inspiration that touches the words,
And weaves them into bluish threads of thought,
As the poet puffs the threads intertwine,
Creating the fabric of aesthetic value,
That builds castles, makes flowers grow,
That makes the gown of a fair lady,
And writes tales and poems of mankind,
But when the ember vanishes,
There is nothing but ash,
And the fine scent in the room,
And a written poem lying on the table.
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