Saxon Crow

A Poets Lot

Dare i become a pretentious poet?
A Shakespearean scribe
A seeking laureate
Using a language to stir the senses
‘Come hither dear friends
Let thine ears be bewitched!’
Or should i yearn for a more clearer way?
Something less grandiose to explain my feelings away
A poet writes what they feel at that time.
Using words in a way that reflects their own mind.
So all i can say is i make no excuses
Whether its Keats, Ayres or Larkin
Who i choose as my muses.
Some days i shall charm, some days insult
Some days i will harm, while others, rebuke
I just dont know what I\'ll write, when i write
Who knows that laureate could be in my sights!
So without further ado about nothing much
This expression of self now comes to a close.
To my friends, poets and love gods
Thanks for lending me your eyes
This poem is now over
You can now breathe a sigh!