Thankful For the Poet
Your captivating sonnet, a single verse then
two, the words I write seem not quite right
compared to the ones from you
I've often used too many, and consume your
point of view, your ability to say so much
by using just a few
Thank you Mr. Shakespeare for a friend I met
today, because of you she's come from many
miles away. I frolic in your descriptions
of each and every noun, as each verse bursts
and like a poor beggar, quenches my thirst
I thank Mr. Poe for his stories of woe that
deeply stirs my raven soul, coercing the
sadness out of the quills, convincing me that
time kills, love heals, color spills…
I begin to write my single verse, that
might turn into two, I savor a rarest gift,
the one that came from you. I take a turn,
my desire’s to please, but discover as I
write the poem, the poetry writes me
Karen Anglesey 2002
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