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