Ode To Poets

Ode To Poets Poets have vivid imaginations because their minds work differently. They see things others don’t, with an understanding that goes deeper. They bare words on paper smudged by tears of pain and laughter, And to see one in action will set emotions fluttering into the weather. O to be a fledgling that has outgrown the eyrie, Flinging itself off the cliff to ride on the currents freely. Singing from on high, and then descending into the chasm, Or to be a sailor departing on a bark to sail the seven oceans. Where waves of innocence splash one’s face with indulgence. Bathing in inspired nourishment independent of performance. And to perk one’s ears toward the grandest stage of entertainment, And share an experience with someone dear to your resemblance. On a platform high enough so that the world will see your presence. “Hark!” the poet reiterates a memory to be cherished by their audience, Who come to hear freshness in this stale world of commerce and politics. You cannot climb a mountain without strength, but you can endeavour Throughout the passage of time, and treasure the poets’ candor.