The Old Poet

The Old Poet

With cracked old hands he wrote down
everything that entered his head
He wrote them all both smile and frown
with noble pen, that which he wed

He had things to say which no one knew
and I was well beyond infatuation
I worshipped the knowledge he let through
and he always met my expectation

That learned man wrote interesting things
about distant lands and seagulls
How to search the sky without the wings
of the albatross, or golden eagles

He wrote down ways to sharpen stone
with perfect resonance and skillful sound
and he knew although he lived alone
How to be the most perfect man around

The Old Poet quite simply astounded me
with wisdom that age must lend
but it surprised me most of all that he
seldom read the words he penned



© FailedChoices 2011




Bringing a twist to 'practise what you preach'