Tirelessly, Beautifully
Poetically,
With inspiration,
That is what you might
Call, incredible
Dedication,
Does not do it
For profit,
Not at all,
For some kind of
Sanctification?
Some inner dedication?
I don’t know
All I know is that
Such proliferation
Merits gratitude
And great admiration!
That’s how Life is,Mind your own biz,Like that you won’t be wacked.
Miraculous and terse,Emotionally nursed,All calming thirstNothing left bareWith only Love,To ever share.
A great book stays under cover,A great poem speaks to you,But it’s we, the proud and prejudice,That have so much to regret,Who never know how good we have it,Till it’s time to go to rest.
Piece of paper,I will tryTo give back,As literary lover,Much more,Than I’ve takenSimply loving,Poetry’s,Living act,In the theaterOf wordsThat so expressFeelings,Better than allOther thingsEver heard.
They lie like LoonsOn lunatic Moons.And we have to payThem for THAT? ?
That we’re really human beings,That should walk close, hand in hand.Crying sooths the ailing heart,Keeps you from falling apart.
