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Homage to Poets

Pat Tyrer

They say that those who can’t, will teach, for lack

of skills to write, or reach an audience

composed of peers. I cannot make a rhyme

or poem that’s fit to print upon a sign

for marketing or just to read in spring

when love is freshly green and grown like grass.

So what else can I do but teach--explore

the modes, the forms, the lines of ever growing

little minds which as the metaphor of sponge

so captures all they’ve done or yet to do.

And yet I want to spread my wings and sing

about the lovely things that poets write.

I form the words and find the tropes that make

the images conform to what I feel

is true and natural yet still they lie

upon the page like fallen leaves in great

disgrace for once they lived in others’ hands

Where shades of colored meaning gave them life.

Upon the muses I depend for every

single word I write. I take no credit

for the gifts that Fortune gives with great

delight. The words which flow upon the page

show wisdom far beyond the grace of such

a poet as myself could offer here without their help.

Previously published in Creative Hearts, 2017

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