This Plain, Age-old Appeal

 I laughed out loud when I saw this Bing-search on my blog; 

what is the point of a poetry-blog? someone asked

I hope when they find out they let me know😉

Below, part of my poetry-collection...

...this poetry-thing has been going on for a long time

but at the end of the day we still are not quite sure what to do with it;

especially in this day and age where poem-books are not on the Best-seller list

but rather perhaps on the Best cellar list😊

 Still, art has never been done for the money of it but rather for the love it

and I suppose a poetry-blog is one way to share the love!

There is no money in poetry

and no poetry in money!

Most publishers care more about the money than the poetry 

for obvious reasons so what does one do with poetry?!

From fathoms hung upon the air

As old as faceless Father Time

With seasoned hope and common care

The poet spins her winsome rhyme

And paints upon parchment-terrain

Scenes soft and oft somewhat surreal

For troubadour cannot contain

The ink that poets think and feel

Emotion’s oceanic crest

Is hard to harbour in the heart

The crash and surge of urge and quest

Ah, some must wrestle into art

Where skin and bone alone are small

For we are all mere mortal men

But what, after the madrigal

Makes worth the call of ink and pen

A poem seals upon a page

Time’s places, faces soon forgot

It sets upon thought’s open stage

The crashing sea, a flower-pot

It tugs at years and sets them free

It kindles fires with a spark

And stirs a tender melody

Where silence would be cold and dark

The poet, none can quite explain

Her heart and soul, thirst-cursed and blessed

Her Task-Master asks her to strain

And garner from life’s worst it best

But after thought has spilled its reel

(Heart-pieces for the world to see)

Remains this plain, age-old appeal

What does one do with poetry?

© Janet Martin