I wish that I could sing as sweet
as girl, with wings upon her feet.
That I could dance her dervish dance,
spin round and round in mystic trance.
For maybe then I’d write like Keats,
rhyme deep as Yates, who spells it Yeats.
Lay lovely lines like Lakeside Bill,
each one a golden daffodil.
I wish the sound of skylark’s song
would make me weep, so I would long
for goddess girl, who once had broke
my heart, with bitter words she'd spoke.
For then my rhymes would breathe romance;
they’d gleam and glow, and at one glance
my friends would all be wooed and won,
would welcome me with their, ‘well done!’
I wish my pen would kiss like quill
of Sappho, then my page I’d fill
with teardrop words from clouds of fire,
all beauty-bled from dark desire.
Then verse composed in naïve youth,
I’d passed off as inspired truth,
I’d burn, like corpse beneath its shroud,
replace, with poems pure and proud!
-
Author:
Blue-eyed Bolla (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 1st, 2021 01:39
- Comment from author about the poem: for my poet friends
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 34
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek, Accidental Poet
Offline)
Comments3
Brilliant!
Well Kevin, proud you should be of this and all your work here on MPS. Top shelf poetry here my friend. ; )
Super words Kevin.
Andy
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