She Asked Me Why
She asked a question, not so long ago...
someone I know just through our garden club.
"Why do you write so much...it seems a chore,
especially because it's not your job?"
So stunned I was that she put it this way!
It surely knocked the wind right out of me.
I should have said, "why do you breathe each day,
and eat and drink, and do the things you must?"
You see...a writer...poet cannot live
without creative ways to make words sing;
without the peace of having heart and soul
make images from thoughts that dwell inside.
An inborn drive that cannot be controlled...
the words spin round and round until the pen
quick transforms them upon a waiting page
so that the thoughts can flow and come alive.
It can not be explained, but if it's there...
and most know from a young age it's a gift,
to be a slave to words and thoughts...just is.
So, writers, poets must be what they are.
Of course, I never told her all these things;
she wouldn't understand them anyway.
So I just smiled and said, "please pass the tea."
In nick of time, the speaker came on stage.
February 23, 2019
Contest: Poetry and Me
Sponsor: Silent One
Theme: A poem about what poetry is to you
and what it means to you.
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2019
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