Wordsmith

Suddenly he is gone His words unspoken And, more sadly, Unwritten Some said he’d been a preacher He could certainly hold a crowd Teasing them and pleasing them As he spoke his words aloud A painter of word pictures Spoken with verve and style With asides and interjections Every random once in a while A spoken word performer One of that select band Who could hold an audience In the palm of his hand A raconteur and humorist A veritable bright spark Love his work or loathe it But he certainly left his mark Now suddenly he is gone His words unspoken And, more sadly, Unwritten Rest In Peace