Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Poet


Vast and varied, ink-persuasion
Vexed by nothing but a thought
Intangible rush of passion
Spilling bravely into jot

Artist not of tinted pigment
Where a thousand word-scapes waft
Pen and parchment the lone canvas
To portray oceans of thought

Hurricane held in a levee
Moaning, groaning intercourse
Not of common causes, fleshly
But of soul and spirit force

Fusion of desire and duty
Trembles, tracing every line
Until we can feel the Beauty
That at last word can define

 Breathless capsheaf; awe and hunger
Apex of coveted release
Pinnacle of pen and paper
As the poet finds his peace

© Janet Martin

and I realized, whether house-wife or cowboy, theologian or wanderer, poets share a common hunger to paint passion in word.


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