Get Your Premium Membership

A True Poet

A poet worth his salt is one that feels each vowel he is tossing in the air; And poetry's the altar where he kneels to thank the Almighty in a fervent prayer. He works as hard as fifty slaves combined to make his poems loved and understood while striving for the worthy and refined, he puts to verse his ever-racing moods. The sleepless nights, the crumpled sheets, the fire of his impassioned soul, to serve his Queen. The goddess Poetry, his one desire, for her he would be faceless and unseen. At sea, at home, while strolling at the beach, the rhyming harmony torments his soul. His muse and quill are never out of reach enduring passion steals his self control. Oh, what a bliss, to live in your embrace, the nymph of rhyme, the fairy of the verse. Urban sprawl, a bard's immune to space. Atlantis, his poetic universe. His stalks his Muse, and she, a grateful slave to stirrings of his soul, a mother hen. She waits on him, while he, ungrateful knave, barrages her in his concocted glen. A true poetic soul will never ask for olive laurels it did not deserve. A humble pilgrim, in a nameless mask poetic spirit's born to woe and serve. Through the centuries, the poets write to bring across their effervescent light.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 6/3/2025 2:51:00 PM
Hello Ron, a true poet is always pondering what his next poem will be. always thinking how to create the poem. looking for ideas for the poem. He or she will always be pondering how what to write. Enjoy your evening my friend. /Darlene/
Login to Reply
De Beaulieu Avatar
Darlene De Beaulieu
Date: 6/4/2025 10:32:00 AM
Hello Ron, this method seems to work out for you. As for myself, ideas comes to me out of no where. Other times from a dream. I wrote a poem about someone knowing me. He called out my name. Now I wonder who he is. A strange dream. i am hoping to have the dream again so i could see who he is. Your friend. /Darlene/
VanHooser Avatar
Ron VanHooser
Date: 6/4/2025 10:13:00 AM
Hi Darlene, I'm glad you enjoyed the poem. I guess things work a bit differently for me. I have a folder on my computer named "in progress" and it is filled with random thoughts, phrases, images, etc. I don't actually think about poetry until I sit down at the keyboard, then I just close my eyes and type. Sometimes it is gibberish, other times it is worth more work. Your friend, Ron

Book: Reflection on the Important Things