My spirit can’t be broken
My faith is far too great
A small and worthy token
My life is lived by fate
Others may not accept me
They may think what they will
But, I know what I can be
If I embrace my skill.
To some, these thoughts on paper
Are meaningless and dense
Verses destined to taper
As future worlds commence
Yet, these words are my calling
I’ll leave each one behind
Some might find this appalling
My poems brings peace of mind.
My spirit is my essence
My beauty and my core
These words, in their existence
Are feelings I adore
Beliefs I often treasure
For I know others who
Enjoy, beyond all measure
The work that poets do.
My paper is my vessel
My pencil guides my course
When heart and mind must wrestle
My spirit is my force
Despite these choppy waters
Of naysayers abound
My poems shall bless my sunset
As the best gifts I’ve found.
© 2008 – Jill Eisnaugle’s Poetry Collection
Edwin
Cryssa
Ron
A very nice piece. I especially liked:
Despite these choppy waters
Of naysayers abound
My poems shall bless my sunset
As the best gifts I’ve found.
Sincerely,
Alan Busch
Best Regards,
Rockie
Newfie hugs, Rose
I like this poem very much - it redeems us all who write from our hearts what we feel to be pure and lovely, praiseworthy, and true,
encouraging and comforting, writing to bless not to hurt, lifting each other through words that touch..."for the good man brings good things out of the good stored in his heart."
Thank you Jill,
Cynthia
This is beautiful work. I've always thought a poet bares his or her soul in the poems they write. I love reading and writing poems and would not think to be critical of anothers work. Their heart and soul went into it.
Many blessings,
~Linda