One Last Poem

by John Herlihy

One more poem and then I will take leave,

Some brief final verses of what I still believe.

The mind pours forth what the heart inspires,

Sentiments that still burn as smoldering fires.

Writing the only dream that ever came true ,

The one fulfilling experience that I fully knew.

Breadcrumbs of poems that never grow stale,

Little twinkling stars of night that never pale.

A young child’s poem that will never grow old,

An old man’s poem ever fresh, forever young.

Poem of the heart scripted by feathered quill,

A final miracle to occur, some inspiration still.

Every poem potentially as the one poem last,

That one poem completed that will hold fast.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Thursday 20 November 2025