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WHY POETS WRITE
WHY POETS WRITE
Poetry for poetry’s sake I pen
Up in the middle of the night
Scribed on moonlit pages
My soul unfurls by pen and ink
My heart song of lived long days,
Love’s labor by singing light
Not for approving nod or wink
Or the measure of yeas or nays
Betokened by nefarious wages,
It is my muse and I that gauges
How words fall and their trend
I write all night starting at ten
With the help of ambient moonlight
As poets did throughout the ages
In one long unbroken poetical link
On their vellums great poetry stays
Embellishing feelings of what they think
Of white to black and all the grays
And every color that nature stages
Without sanction, without wages
It’s poetry for poetry sake, I pen
