A POET A poet writes, A lot of words. He writes of love, The flowers, the birds. He mostly writes, The way he feels. Sometimes it is, A way to heal. It's hard to find, The words that rhyme. To find that match, Takes lots of time. And if the poem, Is written right. The words will flow, Like clouds at night. I love to write, My poetry. It gives me peace, And soliloquy. I bare my soul, To words of fate. I will not stop, Till it's to late. Where ever I go, They'll follow me. I hope and pray, Eternity.
Reason for writing:
I wrote this poem for all poets everywhere. I believe this
reflects how each of us poets interprets our poems, and what
we strive to accomplish. It was suggested to me to submit
this poem for a Pulitzer prize. I hope you agree.
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View more poems by Norb Walker Sag.