My Dear Poets, My Dear Friends

A Poet may think, he or she is good A Poet may write of daffodils of white, or a roaring stream, capped, enraged running for a quiet place, a solemn place A Poet may dream of higher aspirations of floating on clouds of powder cotton candy while riding a Bull, in it's stride to rid the rider then turn suddenly, to a field of umber wheat A Poet may wish for greater things to come when in reality, wealth will only come when The Poet is dead and gone, more remembered in death, than in life so aimlessly lost A Poet may think they are at their best in younger years, when thoughts are fresh new, and easily come by, yet form experience I find that not to be true, This is what I have found, A True Poet is wise, whether from age or the experiences they have lived, and died for, A true Poet, Has a heart, Lives their heart and can tell their Heart from all others, I am a Published Poet, yet I am a Poet I am a Poet Laurette, yet I am a Poet, I am an International Poet Laurette, To me,I am just a Poet, with a Heart With all my Kudos and all my friends, the Kudos I have thrown in a trunk, My Poet Friends I hold dear, I say this Do not write for acclamation, Indeed no! That will truly, only come upon death, Write from the Personal, your Love, Your Heart, Your Heart break, Lust Desires, Lorne, Beauty, Ugliness These things a Poet makes, Not Glory Not Fame, Not institution, Heart.... Write of yourself, Your weaknesses, Your Strengths, Your Desires..... You! You will come to know who you are others will come to know you, Your Fame will come to be in that which you tell, And you will have PEACE! I have Learned.... God Bless all my Poet Friends...... Live .... God Bless you all!!!! The original.........TAZ