The oracle of poets

~*~

The evening was beautiful and clear
The  setting sun
In the western horizon
Cause an unusually long
Shadow of a poet not there.

Came he once again
To share his wits of poetry
With other graying poets
That once upon a time

Sat within a circle of benches
Their own personal Oracle
Of Poets
In a small plaza
In the middle of nowhere.
 

To challenge each other
To create poetry from the depths
Of their wisdom filled hearts
With none rhyming 
Words that formed lines
Lines building well versed stanzas.

Poetry that had to make them
Shed at least a tear
The challenge was not an easy task
For harden graying  poets
That fed upon the very nature
That surrounded them.

The lone shadow arrived
To an empty oracle
Their circle of passionate thoughts
Was empty
Was he early or was he late
The sun shone bright
Not a cloud distracted
The baby blue sky
As it turned orange

All
The Gods above
Saw
Were empty benches
In the hidden plaza
Of knowledge.

A lone lost shadow
Casting in the middle
Of the empty oracle
Where poets once
Tried to make each other
Cry.


By: William Bonilla
D’Artagnan
06/10/2010