Maybe we are the chosen few-
One in a million and a dying breed
That someday will just fade away,
We are ones who offer up the words
That you close your eyes and long to hear,
As we whisper them in your dreams.
Words spoken softly by a poet’s heart-
Love, romance and desire, brightly burn,
Making you want to get ever closer
And feel the warmth of our poetic fire,
As we speak of passionate lessons learned,
Sharing with you the honesty of a poet’s soul.
When we are gone and are no more-
Where will you find the words that you long to hear-
When you wait in the silence and the words never come-
Who will feed your dreams and speak to your soul,
When the poets of the heart remain silent-
Who will speak to your heart?
Share
Print
Save
Follow
This is a beautiful poem. I think I will have to read "The Death of a Poet" before I leave.
But not to worry, when you are gone there will always be romantics who will write the words for the next generation to ponder. Great ones will come and go like the leaves of autumn. And some words, like yours, may be ensconced in history where they will be read over and over again many generations to come.
Ron