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| To A Poet | |
| By Faerieanna | ||||||||||
| 13 September 2007 | ||||||||||
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An older one of mine, posting inspired by Josie's "From Nursery Rhymes to Psalms". I have noticed that writing about writing is not always well received on here but I think this is one of my best so am willing to take a chance... ( I am told it could also be read in a broader context, a comment on life...). As always, constructive feedback welcome. There will be fertile times When your poetry is the source Within you All the fire in your soul And your life is either So wild you can’t contain it Or so enchanted You forget it’s real. There will be barren times When your poetry is merely An aside A shut pocket in your soul And your life is either So cluttered you can’t find it Or so empty you forget to look.
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