On Going Epitaph

of all the poets I have read
and loved the most are dead
impressions they have left with me
with gentle touch that meant so much
are part of olde antiquity
for they were dead e'er I was born
though not yet gone the pictures stay
and rondelays go on 
kipling through my mind
what word's worth a
pound or tenny
son
what wall do 
emers own ?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace