The Master and Poet
The Poet found the words that sang like a tune, as he followed the notes that fell upon paper, in black and white. He dressed his best in a tuxedo he found in an old chest. It belonged to a Master of Poetry by the name of Shakespeare, who left it behind on a peer. He was just my size from his hat to his shoes, as I looked in the mirror I wondered if he looked anything like me? Never the less I pretended to be a Master of Poetry like he. The words flowed from my pen like magic as if the Master himself was guiding my hand and pen perhaps to help me write a poem pleasing to him. I'll never forget that day on the peer,the wind hit that sail on that old ship and it sailed away across the sea, I thought how it would be to walk in the shoes of the Master of all Poets, lucky for me he forgot the old chest and today is my lucky day! For a simple poet like me!
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