Goldfinch60

Why Do You Write Poetry?

I started with a picture

That created such emotion,

Such emotion within me,

That tears run down my face.

I had to write some words,

So my writing was born.

Occasionally at first

Words would go on the page,

But then Calliope came,

Came into my life,

So the writing would not stop.

It was part of me,

Every day I was writing,

My life had been reborn.

All types of subjects,

So many words.

 

My life went on as well,

My lover at my side,

The love of my life,

So wonderful,

So loving,

So mine.

But then it struck!

Dementia started,

Started claiming her mind.

So I wrote about it,

The worse it got,

The more I wrote.

And then my lover disappeared,

Disappeared into he own mind,

She was no longer there.

But one thing never changed,

The words in my mind were there,

Still there.

So throughout those hard days

My words saved me,

I could lose myself,

Sometimes only briefly,

But my words saved me

From going mad within myself.

I cared for her so much

But could do nothing,

Nothing to help her.

My words became my saviour.

 

My lover became so ill

She had to go into care,

Into a place of safety.

A wonderful place was found,

And all was well with her world,

Though so sad for me.

 

I knew she was safe,

Safe in a wonderful home.

Knowing that I relaxed,

Each day was easier,

My worries for her were over.

I was reborn,

Reborn into a life,

A life without worry.

My love for her will never fail,

But I can go on with ease,

Ease in my world.

 

And still I write words,

I write words every day.

Those words within me

Fighting to get out,

Get out and onto the page.

Every day Calliope looks down,

Looks down on me and calls,

Calls for my words.

 

So each day I write,

I write for her,

I write for you,

But most of all,

I write for me.