The Poets Pen…
A wand of magic,
Write do they of the tragic,
Of romance is written,
The poet of their pen is smitten…
Their pen does encompass the world,
To the angels and God we must this herald,
Our pens do work like that of swords,
Cutting deep into the meat of poetic chords…
Do we have the knack,
Or do we, any of us, lack,
The pen does of our memories bring back,
Our pasts, our loses, our conquests, our times black…
We live and some say we will die by the pen,
Our minds and thoughts do remain quite open,
To the gods for our abilities we must say amen,
For writing is in the end, its own Zen…
© ed ~ 3/28/06
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