-- Poetic Words --

John Herlihy

The poet finds the words,

For those who have none.

As the soft chirping of birds,

Meaning amid silence spun.

A simple person simply suffers,

Occasionally, he may complain.

He endures, possibly mutters,

The grief or sorrow, to contain.

Poetic words an endless supply,

A repertoire sung without end.

From the heart, a human cry,

Emotions that never pretend.

Some people are at a standstill,

Thoughts brimming with tears.

One’s love there at a windowsill,

A long-lost valley of many years.

Memories of another country,

Melancholy echoes still heard.

Emotions of loss, despair, pity,

With no sound of a clear word.

The poet stops at nothing ever,

Always seeks ways to explain.

The inspiration silenced never,

Communicating in words plain.

We know the world’s timeliness,

The poet knows only timelessness.

From the well of emotions, words,

Sweet melodies from songbirds.

With words, the poet goes on his way,

Without words, others make their way.

When words come, he feels such relief,

Without words, he would feel such grief.

- - - - - -

Copyright © John Herlihy

Friday 23 April 2021