Poem--The Abstract Art

When you tell me – O dear, A poem you read-- I read it, there I find a pearl hidden in a shell— Relaxed and placid, I read it because a lot more life there I find Like some playful white swans are In deep intimacy in a sun-drenched lake, When you tell me—‘find me in your poem,’ I look for you in every word of my poem, In the poem I find sometime the sadness of A hollow, pensive heart, wherein Songs are sung in an articulate moan! In the poem often I find the truth — A lonely homeless man sleeps on the hard Sidewalk in a wintry cold night, for him A poem becomes an abstract art of cruel reality!