Poet Visitors In the Night
Poet Visitors in the Night
Asleep, I was, under my new forest green
velvet and Sherpa throw.
With loving stockings to warm my
cold, autumnal toes.
Then, I felt the sweetest, slightest breeze.
As one might feel, caused by the tenderest
of angels' wings.
Two men by my bed did boldly stand.
One, graciouslly helped me up whilst
the other cloaked me in my new
scarlet housecoat.
I was not afraid just sensed I knew
these smiling trangers at my hand.
We lit some candles, they brought
out fragrant jasmine tea.
I recognized them from times
long gone bye.
They were E.E,Cummings and
W.H. Auden.
I was beside myself with poetic
happiness, aye!
We sat and consulted till dawn
began to break.
Both told me how to improve and
what steps I must take.
Both entreated me to write great
poetry.
I told each of them, of being a good
poet, was not a title worthy of me.
They both howled in raocous laughter!
Hugged me.....and told me to be
true to the poetic greats of history.
And I pledged to them and to
all of you....
To cease the search for popularity!
And primarily be a poet true, to myself
and to all of you!
With love,
Panagiota
November 12, 2019
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