Poets

                 Poets

Oh, the magic that they weave                                                                     
   with each and every word

Capturing our attention like
   the first words we ever heard

Drawing us into their vision
   taking us on their trip

Making us ponder a dream or two
   a few, we wished we'd skipped

The magical way the words dance
   each word sings it's own song

Reaching out to our psyche
   making us want to belong

The power of suggestion
   the words keep us entranced

The broken hearts..the words of love
   and oh how I love "The Dance"

It's been said that poets lie
   I do not believe that's true

Wish we all could see so clearly
   from the poets point of view

Once again...they have that vision
   see things I wish to see

Then they put it to words
   to the delight of you and me

It's a pleasure that they share
   allow us to partake

Lets hope they always do
   at least just for our sake

I think of their poems as a garden
   full of blossoms and blooms

Always something to treasure
   and the wafting of their perfumes

So, I hold them in my prayers
   ask God to bless their souls

Their words I hold within
   my bouquet......as I grow old.