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The Captain of Our Hopes

A musician dribbles notes like basketballs
Swishing shots
Into the hoops of our hearts

An architect determines angles
With angel’s wings
Making of the protractor
A divine art

A painter makes of nothing
A world of feeling
Picking colors and assigning
Splendid strokes

But a teacher with a knack for
Is the real captain of our hopes

The best can incorporate all she sees
Into a lesson made to move
Blessing the ones under her tutelage
With a desire to try and prove
The saying’s true
The world’s our oyster
Our canvas, our rich pageant
Coaxing out the shyest soul
With exercises full of gadgets

She is the pully of our hearts
Lifting apprehension’s weights
Finding even in the smallest seed
Creation’s awesome DNA

The sweat that waters
A thousand gardens
A smile that oils every wheel
Taking something you could only imagine
And making it for real

May her work be not in vain
May she see the good of her toil
The world made a better place
The knot of the heart uncoiled

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
A poem I wrote for a dear friend's birthday. She is really involved in the maker movement. Thus the "gadgets" and "pulley" and all.
Editing stage: 


The title really put me off, perhaps that
is why there are no comments. I feel if
there is a captin of my hopes it is me, so
there is where I am with your write.

I do like the subject line, I've had some
good teachers, but ...

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