The Visiting Writer

Someone knocked on my door, I went to see 
And found an important visitor "Thembinkosi " 
Who was coming to collaborate with me. 
In the  right hand of the visiting writer
Was some typed manuscripts. 

I used to see him in the local library reading 
books but I did not know if  he was a  writer too. 
I quickly looked at his work while he was taking 
Some cappuchino on the banch under the big 
Tree in the yard. One of his poems and short 
Stories called , " My First Love " got my attention. 
Later on ,  I told him to recite it for me, he said loudly ,"
I asked him for a flower , he gave me the garden, 
I asked him for a tree, he gave me  the forest
The only one , my first and my last indeed. 

I asked him for the river , he gave me an ocean, 
I remain rooted , trapped in his command , 
The only one , my first and my last indeed." 

Some neighbours students of one local college 
heard the visiting writer reciting poem and came 
to join us on the table under the big tree. 
I and those ladies  were over the 
moon after hearing the recited poem. 

Later on,  we agreed about doing  a collective
       book and  separated. 
Few months later we published a book of
  short stories and poems.
All of us were happy to finalise that
     excellent collection. 

             April 14 2023
     Wtitten for poetry contest  
     sponsoredby Julia Ward

Thembinkosi: Zulu name which
 means Trust the Lord
The name of the visiting writer

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.